Beyond Seventeen
by MAJ8395
Summary: Sequel to Seventeen. Harm is still with the CIA. Can he and Mac find their way back to one another?
1. I Don't Want to Talk About It

_A/N: When I began writing Seventeen (based on the seventeen phone calls Mac made to Harm during his tenure with the CIA), I intended to end it on an upbeat note. But my muse demanded otherwise. The Paraguay fiasco caused a lot of hurt feelings on both sides. I'm a shipper, but I couldn't see them getting together without first dealing with several issues._

_This story is more AU than Seventeen (it would help to read that one first), and there are plenty of differences from that disastrous season. It picks up a month after Harm left Mac standing on the steps of JAG headquarters. As with the first story, the titles of each chapter are names of songs, but this time I'm not limiting them to Beatles' tunes. I'll give the artist's name at the end of each chapter.  
_

**I Don't Want to Talk About It**

**JAG Headquarters  
December 8, 2003  
0700 Local**

Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie stepped off the elevator, then walked through the bullpen to her office. Closing the door behind her, she sat at the desk to boot up her computer. Each day, she arrived early and stayed late. Kept her office door closed and always ate lunch alone.

By now, everyone at headquarters knew not to talk to her unless it was work-related. Even Harriet, who had recently returned from maternity leave, kept her distance. On her first day back, she had made the mistake of mentioning Harm's name. She quickly learned that to face the colonel's wrath wasn't pleasant.

While in the courtroom, Mac acted much as she had before Paraguay. His skills as an attorney hadn't diminished. If anything, she showed more passion and zeal. Heaven help the ones whom she thought was guilty.

Once when Bud served as defense counsel in a manslaughter case, he had approached Mac about a possible plea bargain. She had been unyielding and had insisted upon taking the accused marine corporal to trial.

An hour after arriving, Mac looked at her watch to see it was almost time for staff call. Her internal clock had been off for a while, so she didn't trust herself to know the correct time. Funny thing, she knew the exact moment when it went haywire.

Over a month had passed since Harm left headquarters after testifying in the Imes court-martial. Thirty-one days, twenty-two hours, and nineteen minutes since she'd stood on the front steps and watched him drive away without looking back. Funny how she knew the exact time he'd broken her heart.

Mac glanced up from her desk to see Sturgis enter the office next to hers. It wasn't right that he was there. That was Harm's office. As far as she was concerned, it always would be.

Harm. She didn't _want_ to think about him, but she couldn't get him off her mind. She didn't understand why he'd turned down the admiral's offer to return to JAG. Harm had lived and breathed the Navy for most of his life. She thought he would have jumped at the chance to come back. Why the sudden change of heart?

An idea crossed her mind. Maybe Sturgis knew something. She rose from her desk, then went to Sturgis's office and knocked on the door. "Do you have a few minutes, Commander?"

"Morning, Mac. Is this about the Hill court-martial? If so, I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

Mac shook her head. "No. It's a personal matter."

"Okay. Come in. Close the door."

"Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Mac. I want to think we're friends. If something is on your mind, you can talk to me."

"Okay. Um, have you talked from Harm since he testified in the Imes court-martial?"

"Several times. Matter of fact I saw him this weekend. We get together whenever he's in town."

"You do? I thought he'd pretty much cut himself off from everyone at JAG."

"I wasn't aware of that. He stopped by Bud and Harriet's house this weekend to bring gifts to the boys."

"He did?"

"That's what he told me."

"So, he's in town?"

Sturgis shook his head. "He was leaving this morning for a mission."

"Where?"

"Mac, you know he can't divulge classified information."

"How is he doing?"

"You mean you haven't talked to him?"

Mac shook her head. "Except for the time when he was here for the Imes trial, not in six months. I called him seventeen times, and he never returned my messages."

"Yeah, he once mentioned that you'd called." Sturgis leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Mac, what happened in Paraguay? Harm resigns to go find you, then when you come back, the two of you are barely speaking. And suddenly, you're dating Clayton Webb."

"That is none of your business!"

"Mac, this is me. Sturgis. The one who you accidentally told you was in love with Harm. What happened to change that?"

"Him. Me. I don't know."

"Did you ever tell him how you feel?"

"No! He doesn't feel the same way about me."

"Harm told you that?"

"He didn't have to say it. I could tell."

"Mac, the man resigned his commission to find you. Don't you think that says something?"

"It's nothing he wouldn't have done for any of the rest of you. Remember, he defied orders when Bud was injured. You were there."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

She shrugged. "Before you came to headquarters, Harm threatened to resign so he could find his brother in Chechnya."

"Okay, so how many others has he done it for?"

"As far as I know, just Sergei and me."

"Sounds like he did it for those who he deeply cares for."

"Well, he has a strange way of showing it."

"Let's get back to my first question. What happened in Paraguay?"

"You know the story. Clay and I tried to save Gunny, and Sadik's men captured us. They tortured Clay and was about to do the same to me when Harm showed up."

"That's not what I mean, Mac. What happened between you and Harm?"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you." Mac rose from her chair, then rushed back to her office, slamming the door behind her.

It was all too much. Apparently, Harm was on speaking terms with everyone at JAG except for her and the admiral. She could understand him not having anything to say to Chegwidden, but couldn't figure out what she had done to make him hate her.

* * *

_A/N: I Don't Want to Talk About It by Rod Stewart_


	2. Secret Agent Man

_A/N: Told mainly from Harm's POV. Webb is… Well, you can read for yourself. And for the record, I hate the entire Sadik storyline, but for this story, his name has to come up. I'm also unfamiliar with the logistics of Kuwait, so mistakes are my own._

**Secret Agent Man**

**CIA Headquarters  
December 12, 2003  
1100 Local**

Harmon Rabb pulled his Corvette up to the security gate of CIA Headquarters and flashed his security badge before being waved through. Parking his car, he got out, then strolled into the lobby like he didn't have a care in the world.

It was easier to act that way, rather than let everyone know his true feelings. On the surface, he seemed the same—a cocky, self-confident pilot. The "boy scout" who always did the right thing and was always on the side of the truth.

But anyone who knew him well could see the differences. Gone was the flyboy grin. He had changed in the last six months. His time in the CIA had hardened him. Starting in Paraguay, he'd seen and done things he never thought imaginable. Clark Palmer had once pointed out the number of men he had killed, and he'd taken it in stride. It was one thing to fire a missile from an F-14 at a designated target. Quite another to break a man's neck without giving it a second thought.

But he'd done what was necessary to save Mac's life and would do it a thousand times more if it meant keeping her alive. He paused to look at the stars on the wall—a silent tribute to the fallen. Stars representing unnamed agents who didn't make it back from their missions alive. Had it not been for him, Mac's star would have surely been on that wall.

Clayton Webb's too. Harm couldn't help but sometimes wish Clay hadn't made it out of Paraguay alive. But he knew if that had happened, Mac would only blame herself.

Harm rode the elevator to the floor where Director Kershaw's office was located. His appearance caused him to be the recipient of more than a few stares from members of the opposite sex. He was clad in tight jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather bomber jacket. His hair was a bit longer than Navy regs had allowed. The beard had been a recent addition.

Kershaw's secretary looked up when he entered the room. She was old school, had been with the agency for thirty years, and had children older than Harm. Still, she wasn't immune to his charms. Her face lit up in a smile. "Mr. Rabb. Director Kershaw said to go right in."

"Thanks, Maryanne." He entered Kershaw's office to find none other than Webb there.

Harm removed his aviator glasses. "What are you doing here, Spook Boy?" He had recently begun referring to Clay by that nickname, which irritated the agent to no end.

"Well, Rabb," Webb smirked. "You're certainly dressed for the occasion."

"Hey, not everyone dresses in three-piece Armani suits and attends state functions with their mama. How is she, by the way?"

"Mother is fine, thank you. But that's not why we're here."

Harm turned to Kershaw. "Then why are we here?"

"Agent Webb has new information that could help in the search for Sadik."

Harm narrowed his eyes. "New information, huh? And how accurate would it be? Same as every other damn piece of intelligence you've provided? Let's see. I can't think of a single instance where your 'information' has helped us with anything."

"Harm, I told you the man is like a chameleon. It's not my fault he slips through the cracks."

"Not your fault, huh? Oh, now, we wouldn't want to tarnish your pretty-boy image."

"Rabb, I can have you pulled off this mission."

Kershaw spoke. "No, you can't, Agent Webb. Rabb is in this for the long-haul, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Sadik should be mine. I'm the one he tortured. I'm the one who—"

"Nearly got Mac killed because of your stupidity? Because every damn mission you've ever involved the two of us in has gone south? So help me, Webb, if anything does happen to her, I'll personally—"

"Enough!" Kershaw said. "We're all on the same side here. Sit down, both of you. Webb, tell us what you know."

Harm slumped into a chair, then shared point-blank at a man he'd once considered a friend.

"Sources say Sadik has entered Iraq. He was last seen in Basrah two days ago."

"Then why hasn't someone taken him down already?"

"Not that simple, Harm. Besides. My source provided this information at great risk to his own life. You and Beth O'Neal are to be on a plane to Kuwait City within the hour. From there, you'll receive instructions."

"From who? You?" Harm turned to Kershaw. "I thought we agreed that Webb wasn't to be a part of this. Now I'm taking orders from him?"

"No, you're taking orders from me. Webb is just providing information. If he's right, this could be our best chance at getting Fahd."

"When has Webb ever been right about anything?"

"You're saying you refuse to go?" Clay's voice held a smirk.

"No. I signed on for this mission, and I'll see it through."

"Agent O'Neal has been briefed and will be waiting for you at the airstrip. You leave in an hour," Kershaw said.

"Works for me." Harm stood to leave.

"Hey, Rabb. Get rid of the facial hair before you go."

"I don't take orders from you, Spook Boy. The beard stays."

**Kuwait City  
December 17, 2003  
1540 Local**

Harm ended the call, then slipped the secured cell phone back into his pocket. He and his partner, Beth O'Neal, had been in the city for three days without so much as a hint of contact from Webb's "reliable source."

"What's the deal?" Beth O'Neal asked.

"Kershaw says for us to pull out. They found additional info that proved Webb's intelligence was false."

Beth sneered. "Huh. I'll say. The man lacks in the brain department. Not to mention he's the FUBAR king of the agency."

"What I can't understand is why Kershaw keeps putting up with him."

"That's the million-dollar question. Probably because of his father's association."

Harm shook his head. "I've known the man for almost nine years, and I don't know of any of his missions that have gone as planned. Either that or he withholds information because he has an ulterior motive. But damn it this is the fourth time in a month he's fed us false information. Makes me wonder if he's doing it deliberately."

"You really don't think he'd do that, do you?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him. All I know is that he isn't happy about Kershaw giving the Sadik assignment to me. Spook Boy thinks it should be his."

"Spook boy?" Beth laughed.

"He hates it when I call him that."

"You do enjoy provoking him."

"Every damn chance I get. I'll never forgive him for putting— Never mind. Let's get back to the states. When we do, I'm going to talk with Kershaw. This farce has gone on long enough."

* * *

A lone figure sat several tables away and watched the man and woman walk away from the café. The man was tall, well over six feet, and the woman matched the description given perfectly.

He waited until they were out of earshot before pulling his cell phone out to make a call.

"It's me," he said when the party answered. "They're leaving. Want me to do anything?"

"Not now. Just sit tight until you hear from me. You'll see them again."

* * *

_A/N: Secret Agent Man by Johnny Rivers_


	3. Wicked Game

_A/N: Before late season 8 / season 9, Webb was a character that I sort of liked. But after Paraguay, I hated the character almost as much as I did Bugme. _

**Wicked Game**

**JAG Headquarters  
December 18, 2003  
1630 Local**

Mac rubbed the bridge of her nose in an attempt to fight the nagging headache that had started before lunch. She'd had a rough day in court, facing Sturgis in a case of willful disobedience and conduct unbecoming.

She'd known she faced an uphill battle as defense counsel and had done her best to defend Lt. Mason, but Sturgis had a strong case. After speaking to her client. She'd approached Sturgis with an offer to settle, but he wouldn't go for it.

"If that's the best you can do, Mac, I'll see you in court," he had said.

Although her opening statement was adequate, Mac could tell the members had their doubts about her client's innocence. She wished she could have done better, but you make do with what cards you've been dealt. She reached in her desk for a bottle of aspirin.

"Hello, Sarah."

"What are you doing here, Clay?"

"You've been avoiding me. Figured if I wanted to see you, then coming here gave me the best chance."

"Clay, I haven't been avoiding you."

"Yes, you have. You've ignored my calls. And I know you were home last night but wouldn't come to the door."

"I wasn't in the mood for company."

"Oh? Busy pining for your flyboy?"

"That's none of your business."

"So, you don't deny it. I thought we had something special going on, Sarah. But I've barely seen you the last month."

"I've been busy. We're short-handed here."

"Wouldn't have been that way if Harm had accepted the admiral's offer."

Mac's eyes widened. "Did he tell you about that?"

"No, but I have my sources. I don't talk to Harm unless it's necessary. Go out with me tonight."

"I can't. I have to work late on a case. Some other time."

"Damn it, Sarah. When will be the right time? You know I could get called out of town any minute."

"Don't let me stop you."

"It is Harm, isn't it? You changed after you saw him with Kate Pike at the Willard. He's moved on, Sarah. From what I hear, they're still an item."

"Kate isn't even in town. She's back at Pearl."

"Doesn't mean they aren't seeing one another. Harm always volunteers for missions involving Hawaii. Good thing his 'wife' is understanding. I've heard he and Catherine have an open marriage."

"Harm didn't really marry Catherine Gale."

"Not what I heard, but I'm not going to argue with you. Now, are you going out with me tonight or not?"

"No! I told you I'm busy. Now do me a favor and get out of my office." Mac spoke louder than she intended, attracting the attention of Sturgis, who happened to be passing by.

"Everything okay?"

"Thanks, Sturgis. Everything's fine. Webb was just leaving."

"No, I wasn't."

Sturgis remained outside Mac's office.

"Get out Clay. Now!"

Clay rose to leave but stopped at the door. "This isn't over. I will be back."

"You all right, Mac?"

"I will be. Thanks, Sturgis."

"Didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did. Thanks for being a friend."

* * *

Sturgis went into his office, closing the door behind him. He wasn't sure what had happened between Harm and Mac in Paraguay. Neither of them would talk about it, and both were too stubborn to admit fault. He had a feeling both of them were to blame.

But ever since Harm testified in the Imes' court-martial, Mac had seemed down. Sturgis knew Harm had left without so much as a backward glance, and that had upset Mac. She'd tried to hide her tears, but she wasn't fooling him. Harm had done something to hurt her deeply.

It was time to talk with his old academy buddy.

**JAG Headquarters  
December 19, 2003  
1400 Local**

A J Chegwidden looked through the stack of personnel folders on his desk, hoping to find one person who would be an asset to headquarters. There were lots of good lawyers within JAG, but there wasn't a single one whom he felt was ready to step up and fill Rabb's shoes.

He'd made a mistake months ago when he expedited Harm's resignation. Even worse was his comment about the senior attorney not being a team player. Yes, Rabb was often controlled by his emotions, but maybe that wasn't always a bad thing. Since his departure, the rest of the JAG crew only seemed to be going through the motions.

If only he'd been able to convince Harm to return, he wouldn't need to go through these files. Bringing Kate Pike back wasn't an option. She'd made it clear she had no desire to return to headquarters. Meg Austin had enthusiasm but lacked courtroom skills.

Allison Krennick? No way. Why borrow trouble when you already have enough? If he were to bring her in, she and Col Mackenzie would be butting heads within hours. Besides, he'd seen and heard things from Krennick's time here before that he didn't like. The woman spelled trouble with a capital t.

Tracy Manetti had gone to bat for the office with the SECNAV, disproving Ted Lindsey's report, but A J couldn't help but wonder if she would provide information to Sheffield if asked. Maybe he could convince Alan Mattoni to return to active duty.

The intercom buzzed. "What is it, Coates."

"Clayton Webb here to see you."

Chegwidden rubbed his bald head. "Tell him I'm busy. It'll have to wait."

"He says it's urgent, Sir."

A J sighed. A terrible thought crossed his mind. He hoped Webb didn't have bad news." "All right, Coates. Send him in."

Webb entered the room, dressed in his usual three-piece suit. "Thanks for agreeing to see me, A J.

"This had better be good, Webb."

"I want Col. Mackenzie reassigned to the CIA again. I need her for a mission."

"Denied."

"It's a matter of national security. Surely you can spare—"

"That important, huh?"

"Yes. I need her. Besides, she's agreeable."

"Is that so? Well, you can find somebody else. I'm already down one attorney, and I don't need to lose another one."

"You won't let Sarah go?"

"No."

"Don't make me go over your head, A J."

"And don't make me break your nose again. I still regret letting Mac go with you last spring. You can go pleading to the SECNAV all you want. I'm damn tired of you using my people for your screwed-up missions. Now get out of my office and stop wasting my time."

"You're going to regret this."

The former SEAL rose, rushed to Webb, and grabbed him by the collar. "I don't take kindly to threats, Webb. The agency will be hearing about this. Now get out while you can still walk."

"Okay, okay."

"Damn right, you are. If you stop in ANYONE'S office, I will have the MPs escort you out."

"I'm going. No need to get sore about it." Webb left, slamming the door behind him.

Chegwidden waited a few minutes before buzzing Coates. "Tell Col. Mackenzie I need to see her right away."

"Yes, sir."

Two minutes later, Mac knocked on his door.

"Enter!"

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Have a seat, Mac. I just had an interesting conversation with Clayton Webb."

"Sir?"

"Yes, he requested you be reassigned temporarily to the CIA."

"He did? Why?"

"Some mission. Said you were agreeable."

"Sir, I have not spoken to Webb about any such matter."

"You haven't?"

"No, Sir. And I don't think it's a good idea for me to leave headquarters right now."

"Agreed. I denied his request."

"Thank you, Sir. Will there be anything else?"

"No, Colonel, that will be all. Close the hatch behind you."

"Yes, sir."

A J waited for her to leave, then picked up the phone. Kershaw was going to hear about this.

* * *

_A/N: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak_


	4. Solitary Man

_A/N: I don't know if such a place exists in DC. If so, any similarities are a coincidence.  
_

**Solitary Man**

**Fifth Quarter Bar, Washington, DC  
December 20, 2003  
1930 Local**

Harmon Rabb sat in a booth facing the entrance of the bar and took a drink of bourbon. He had never liked sitting with his back to a door, but it had gotten worse in the last few weeks. Maybe it was a heightened sense of awareness or because of his latest mission, but of late, he often felt someone was watching him.

A look around the room revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Several people sat at the bar, nursing beers, and eyes glued to the television. A couple sat at the next booth. They were laughing and totally absorbed in one another.

A wave of sadness for what might have been overcame Harm. He had made his share of mistakes with Mac, but he thought she would have understood why he resigned his commission to find her.

Yes, he should have told her. Shouldn't have tabled the conversation. The one time when he thought she was about to understand Spook Boy interrupted with his comment about his "honeymoon" with Sarah. Webb clearly had an agenda when he'd asked Mac to accompany him on the mission.

And somehow, Spook Boy had got the girl. It still hurt when he remembered Mac's words. "There's never going to be an us…"

_If there's never going to be a future with Mac, then I'll remain single for the rest of my life. Guess that's not a bad idea, given the job I have._

But the sensation of being watched wouldn't go away, so he took another look around the room. That's when he saw the woman. She sat alone on the far side of the bar, and her eyes were transfixed on Harm. Under other circumstances, he might have taken a second look. She was attractive and had shoulder-length blonde hair.

What did Mac say when his Corvette was stolen? Something about a guy wanting a car that came standard with a long-legged blonde. Yeah, he'd dated his share of them. But none compared to a brown-eyed, brown-haired marine.

Harm looked away, then took a sip of his drink, hoping he hadn't attracted the blonde's attention. But from the corner of his eye, he saw her slip off the barstool and begin walking his way.

He glanced at his watch. Of all times for Sturgis to be running late. Harm alternated between tapping his fingers on the table and looking at his watch. Maybe she'd get the hint and pass by. No such luck.

"Did your date stand you up?" Her voice was low and seductive.

"Date? What makes you think that?"

"You keep looking toward the door. Acting impatient. If you want company—."

"No. My friend should be here anytime. In fact, here he comes now." Harm breathed a sigh of relief when Sturgis walked through the door, then stood to greet his old academy mate and former colleague, ignoring the woman.

She looked toward the door. "Oh, I see," she said before walking away.

"Hey, buddy," Sturgis said. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic on the beltway was worse than usual."

"What'll you have?"

"Beer."

Harm flagged down a passing waiter. "A beer for my friend here, and I'll have another bourbon."

"Coming right up."

"Who was the blonde?" Sturgis asked as they both sat down.

Harm shrugged. "I don't know. Someone looking for a good time."

"She's a looker. Maybe my timing was wrong."

"No. I was about to tell her to get lost when you came along." Harm burst out laughing as he realized what the woman must have been thinking.

"Good to hear you laugh, man. Haven't seen you do much of that lately."

"Not much to laugh about."

"Tell me about it. The last month at the office has been like working in a morgue."

The waiter arrived. Sturgis took a drink of his beer. "So, have you talked to Mac lately?"

"No. Why would I?"

"I think you should, Buddy."

"Sturgis, Mac isn't interested in talking to me. We have no future together—her choice. She's with Webb now. End of story."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. He was at the office a couple of days ago, and she practically threw him out."

"Yeah, well, probably a lover's spat. She made it a point to bring up his name in almost every one of those seventeen phone calls she made to me. At least she's stopped doing that."

"Mentioning Webb or stopped calling?"

"Calling. I told you Mac and I don't have anything to say to one another."

"I'm not buying that. She asked if I'd seen you. Seemed surprised that not only we talk regularly, but also that you visited with Bud and Harriet. I think she feels left out."

"Her choice. I don't want to talk about Mac. That part of my life is over."

"Doesn't have to be."

Harm downed the remaining bourbon. "Look, Sturgis. Even if we were on speaking terms, getting involved in a relationship right now is out. Not with the kind of job I have now."

"You had a choice to come back to JAG?"

Harm jerked his head in surprise. "Who told you that?"

"Come on, man. Everyone knows. Hard to keep secrets around that place. I suppose you had your reasons."

"I did. And it's a need to know basis. End of discussion." Harm stood, then threw some bills on the table. "Drinks are on me. I gotta go."

* * *

"I thought you said he was available," the blonde said into her cell phone.

"He is."

"Then why was he meeting some guy in a bar?"

"A guy?"

"Yeah. He couldn't get rid of me fast enough."

"What did the man look like?"

"Average height. Light skinned African American. Maybe late thirties. Know him?"

"Yeah. Commander Sturgis Turner with the JAG corps. They go back a long way. They're friends. Nothing more."

"Well, he certainly wasn't interested in talking to me. How am I supposed to get information from him if he won't even talk to me?"

"Just be patient. He'll come around."

"So, are you going to arrange another 'chance' meeting?"

"Give me a few days. If he's in town, I know exactly where he'll be on Christmas Eve."

**CIA Headquarters  
December 22, 2003  
1000 Local**

When Harm stepped off the elevator on his way to Kershaw's office, he wasn't surprised to see Clayton Webb. Somehow the man had wormed his way into Harm's assignment, despite Kershaw's opinion that he would find a way to screw it up.

What did surprise him was the look on Webb's face. It was beat red, and his usual aloft expression was absent. The elevator door had already closed, and Webb pounded on the button as if doing so would expedite the car's arrival.

Harm couldn't resist taking a jab. "Rough morning, Spook Boy?"

"Don't start with me, Rabb. If I find you had anything to do with this, you'll be sorry."

"Don't know what you're talking about, but I'd take a guess and say you're off the Sadik assignment."

"You did talk."

"Only to inform him how Beth O'Neal and I waited three days for your so-called informant to show up. We wasted valuable time because of your false information. As we have every step of the way."

"You'll pay for this. Thanks to you, I've been relegated to the role of desk jockey again. Pushing papers. Seems I'm no longer wanted in the field."

"It was your doing, Webb. Too many botched assignments. Too much useless information. Besides, being a desk jockey fits you, Spook Boy. That way, you don't have to soil your hands or your designer suits."

"That's it, isn't it? You're jealous. You can't afford to live the lifestyle I do, so you'll do anything to undermine me."

"Webb, my stepfather is the VP of Chrysler. We may not be "old money" like your family, but I can assure you I grew up comfortably. And as for your lifestyle, you've got nothing I want." Harm turned, then walked toward Kershaw's office.

"Except for Sarah," Webb called out.

It took every ounce of restraint for Harm not to respond. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and knock the smirk he knew would be on Webb's face. Instead, he continued walking, never breaking his stride.

Kershaw's secretary waved him through. When he entered the office, the director was on the phone, but he motioned for Harm to sit down.

"I'm glad you called me… It's something I needed to hear… I believe I've taken care of the situation, but if he comes to you again, let me know immediately. I did not approve of his request to involve any JAG officers for an assignment… Thanks, Admiral. Same to you." Kershaw ended the call.

Harm's eyebrows shot up at the mention of JAG.

"That was your former CO. He called earlier to inform me Webb had requested Col. Mackenzie for a temporary assignment with the CIA. Chegwidden refused, of course. But what's worse, Webb lied about it. Said he had both mine and the SECNAV's approval. I don't know what he's up to, but I don't like it."

"I saw him in the hallway. He's not happy about being taken out of the field. Blamed me."

Kershaw shook his head. "Not your fault. I don't take kindly to dishonest agents. Webb has given me more than enough reasons of late to be concerned about his performance. One more stunt like this, and I'm placing him on suspension. I don't care who his father was or what connections he has."

"Can't say that I blame you."

"Now that Webb's out of the picture, maybe we can make some progress on finding Sadik. You'll be working with Brandon Vance. He's dependable and trustworthy. He won't let you down."

**JAG Headquarters  
December 22, 2003  
1700 Local**

Mac sat at her desk, wrapping up the mound of administrative paperwork that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks. Being short of an attorney made her job as Chief of Staff more difficult. She'd spent so much time in the courtroom of late, and she'd neglected her other duties.

Looked to be a long night. She didn't have any new cases for the next few days, so if she worked late tonight, then spent tomorrow on administrative functions, she should be caught up by Christmas Eve.

Not that she had any plans for the holiday. Clay had called again over the weekend, trying to persuade her to spend Christmas with him and "Mother." When confronted about his lie to Chegwidden about her agreeing to work with him on an assignment, he blew it off.

"So I told him a little white lie. I knew you would agree if I asked."

"That's where you were wrong. I once told Mic Brumby never to assume, and I'm warning you of the same."

"Does that mean you won't spend Christmas with me?"

"I have no desire to spend Christmas or any other day with you. It's over Clay. Get out of my life and leave me alone."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes. I do. Now, I'll thank you to stop calling." She slammed the receiver.

When thinking back over the conversation, Mac had a feeling she hadn't seen the last of Clay. She shook her head. He'd changed over the past several months. Or maybe he'd always been this way. She just hadn't known him.

"Excuse me, Colonel," Harriet Sims stood at the door.

"What is it, Harriet?"

"I know it's sort of last minute, but I wanted to invite you to the house for Christmas dinner. That is unless you have plans."

Mac smiled. "That's sweet of you, Harriet, but I wouldn't be good company."

"Nonsense. It's going to be a small gathering. Big Bud and Mikey, of course, and a few friends."

"Did you invite Harm? I doubt he'd want to see me."

"Bud did, but he declined. Said he wasn't even sure if he'd be in town. His job often takes him away, you know."

"So I've heard. Harm doesn't talk to me. Apparently, I'm the only one here except for the admiral that he's not in contact with."

"Ma'am," Harriet began. "What happened in—"

"Don't ask. Things have always been complicated with Harm and me. Let's just leave it at that."

"Okay, Ma'am. If you change your mind about Christmas, the invitation is open."

"Thanks, Harriet. That means a lot to me."

**North of Union Station  
December 22, 2003  
1830 Local**

Harm entered his loft, went directly to the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. The meeting with his new partner had gone smoothly. Brandon Vance had been with the agency for ten years. He was no-nonsense and pulled no punches when it came to voicing his opinion of Clayton Webb.

"He had the potential to be a good operative, but the last few months have taken a toll on him."

Harm tried to be gracious in his response. "I guess getting tortured will do that to you."

"I'm not talking about Paraguay. He started screwing up before then. Kershaw did right by putting him on desk duty."

They spent the rest of their meeting discussing strategies. Vance had information that Sadik was somewhere in the Middle East. "We don't think he'll make any moves until after the first of the year. Might as well enjoy the next few days because it's going to get busy."

"Just how reliable is your source?" Harm had asked.

"Better than anything Webb has. I trust this man with my life. I have on several occasions."

"Then that's good enough for me."

Harm sat the beer on the coffee table, then reached for his guitar. Playing relaxed him. He had the next few days to rest, and he planned to take advantage of that time. If what Vance said was right, there was no telling what the new year would bring.

* * *

_A/N: Solitary Man by Neil Diamond_


	5. A World Without Love

_A/N: Is there hope for our dynamic duo? We'll see. _

**A World Without Love**

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
December 24, 2003  
1700 Local**

Mac entered her apartment, then went directly to the Christmas tree to plug in the lights. She wasn't sure why she had bothered to decorate this year. It wasn't as if she would have any visitors.

_A world without love._

Her new normal was coming home alone every night to an empty apartment. Okay, except the time Mic moved in with her, she had lived alone all the years she'd been in Washington. And from that experience, she realized it was better to be alone than with the wrong person.

When Mic left, she thought she and Harm would finally have a chance. Then came the incident with Renee's father. She'd run away to the Guadalcanal. Harm didn't tell her about his break-up with Renee.

Despite all that, they had started getting their friendship back after the Jagathon. By the time they went to Afghanistan, the two of them were as close as they'd ever been. When Bud was injured, things seemed to go downhill from there. The times she and Harm served on the bench almost destroyed them. Afterward came his arrest for Singer's murder, and then Paraguay.

Not for the first time, Mac wished she'd turned down the assignment. If she had, Harm would still be at JAG and not flying all over the world for the CIA. And maybe they would have been able to salvage their friendship.

Mac went into the bathroom, then filled the tub with hot water and scented bubble bath. She was tired, and her shoulders ached. A long-hot bath was in order. She stripped out of her clothes and immersed herself in the water. Leaning her head back, she couldn't help but remember past Christmas Eves.

Last year, she'd been concerned when Harm was late returning from the carrier. She should have known he would take time to visit the wall.

She smiled when thinking of two years earlier—their shared kiss under the mistletoe at the Roberts' apartment.

Mac wondered if Harm would visit his father this year. According to Harriet, he didn't expect to be in town. An idea came to her.

_Well, Harmon Rabb. You may not want to see me or speak to me, but I still consider you my friend. I know how much your father meant to you, so I'll visit the wall for you._

Her decision made, she finished her bath, then dressed in jeans, boots, and a cowl-necked sweater. The weather was cold, but not unbearable. In the kitchen, she found a new votive candle and holder. The least she could do was to light a candle for a man who gave his life for his country. It didn't matter that he didn't die in Vietnam. He would have never been sent to Russia if he hadn't dedicated his life to serving others.

**Vietnam Veterans Memorial  
December 24, 2003  
2000 Hours**

Harm traced his father's name, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He was fortunate that no one was close by, allowing him private time with the man who had been his idol.

_Hey, Dad. Sorry I haven't been around much of late. Lots of things have changed in the last year. My job takes me out of town a lot. Yeah, that's right. I'm no longer in the Navy. It's been almost seven months now._

_But hey, I'm getting to fly now. Lots of different planes. And oh yeah, I landed a C130 on an aircraft carrier. It wasn't easy, but I did it. If I hadn't had a skilled partner and co-pilot, it would have been impossible._

_Guess you're wondering why I left the Navy. It wasn't by choice. At least not entirely. You see, I let my emotions get in the way of my judgment. Mac had taken an assignment with the CIA, and she went missing down in Paraguay. When Admiral Chegwidden wouldn't allow me to go after her and denied my leave request, I resigned._

_The CIA would have left her to die. They don't hold the same creed as the military. I got there just short of too late. _

_I don't know if I've ever told you this, Dad, but I'm in love with Mac. Have been for years. I thought showing up in Paraguay to save her would have shown how much I cared. And I thought she cared for me too. Somehow, I missed the signal. She told in me Paraguay there would never be an us. Accused me of always wanting to be on top. She's moved on, Dad. Right into the arms of another man._

_When we got back to Washington, I went to the admiral. Asked him if I could resume my duties. I guess he got tired of my antics because he expedited my paperwork. I knew there was that possibility when I resigned. Can't blame him for doing it. What got me was his words. He tore me a new six—told me to wrestle alligators or drive a cab. Said I wasn't a team player. Guess maybe I'm not._

_Anyway, within hours, I got a call from the CIA. I've been with them since June. I stay away from JAG. Well, I keep in touch with Sturgis and the Roberts family. I was called in to help back in late October—had to testify against a former colleague. Guess Chegwidden was desperate. He offered me my old job back. I refused._

_Does that surprise you? Did me too, but I had received a phone call that the terrorist leader we encountered in Paraguay was on the move. Sources say he plans to come after Mac. She doesn't know about it—at least as far I know she doesn't. But I've been on his trail for several weeks now. I'll be damned if I'm going to stand by and let him hurt or kill her. She may not want anything to do with me, but I still love her and would do anything to protect her. And if I had it to do over again, I would resign my commission to save her life._

Harm took a couple of steps back, then looked around at the makeshift memories people had placed. Small flags, wreaths, letters. He regretted not bringing something to memorialize his father. It wasn't something he usually did, but something told him this night was special. The least he could have done would have been to bring a candle to light.

He couldn't shake the feeling this might be his last visit to the wall. He was about to turn away when he felt someone's presence nearby. It was her. What was it he'd once told her?

_I always know where you are. _

Turning, he looked into the eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Hello, Harm."

* * *

Her source had been right. He was here. There was no mistaking the tall man who stood at the wall. He appeared to be carrying on a conversation with someone, although no one was nearby.

_Guess he does talk to his father. Kind of weird, but what do I care? I have one mission and only one. He might not have paid attention to me the other night, but I'll make damn sure he notices me tonight._

She started toward him when she saw the other woman. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who she was. She'd seen photos of the Marine Lieutenant Colonel. She'd also heard stories about their relationship. Maybe those rumors were correct.

_Well. Imagine that. Sarah Mackenzie and Harmon Rabb Jr. Better see where this leads._

* * *

Mac had parked her car on Constitution Avenue, then strolled toward the wall. She knew the exact spot where his father's name was listed. She'd been there before. Harm never knew she visited several times when he had gone back to flying.

Somehow, she'd always felt Harm Sr. was looking after his son, and it made her feel better to talk to him during the time Harm was away.

_Yeah, and you should have been here during the last few months. He needs protection now more than ever._

Okay, tonight she would make up for lost time. She was about thirty feet away when she saw him. There was no doubt in her mind it was Harm. He wore jeans and a leather jacket. His hair was a little longer, and—what was that—a goatee?

_Damn, he looks good_.

The man looked good in anything. She'd once told him dress whites and gold wings were overrated. Not on him. He looked equally stunning in his dress blues. He was made to wear a uniform.

But now, in civilian clothes, he looked… darker. A little rugged. She liked it.

Mac hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his private moment. Maybe she should just turn around and leave. He didn't want to see her, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene. But no, Harm wouldn't do that here. This place was too solemn, too sacred for him. She would take her chances and bear the consequences—whatever they might be.

He turned as she approached.

"Hello, Harm." She wasn't sure what to expect. Would he even acknowledge her? Or turn and go in the opposite direction?

Much to her surprise, he nodded. "Hello, Mac. What brings you here?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude. I spoke to Harriet a couple of days ago, and she said you might be out of town. Didn't know if there would be anyone to pay respects to your father."

"I wasn't sure if I would be in town. It turns out I don't have to leave for another few days."

"I, uh… I brought a candle. I mean, if it's all right."

Harm always had the most expressive eyes. Their color seemed to change with his mood. Most of the time, they were blue. Other times, when he flashed the jealousy card, they appeared to be green. Yes, it sounded like a cliché, but it was true. And then there were times when they were smoky gray. She'd seen that color when they kissed on the admiral's porch—his eyes had been full of passion that night.

Mac recalled things she'd seen expressed in them from times past. His care and concern when they faced the crazed poachers. The time he'd tried to relay a message to her on the Watertown about Hodge. The look he'd given her in the admiral's office just before they'd gone to pick out new cars. And yes, even though he'd denied his feelings, their farewell hug before he returned to the fighter squadron.

Tonight, they were baby blue, but Mac had a hard time deciphering his expression. Gratitude? Hope? Regret?

It was one minute seven seconds before Harm spoke. "Thanks, Mac. I was just wishing I'd brought something. Please, light it for him."

Mac stepped forward, bent down to place the candle at the base of the wall, then lit it. When she stood up, she traced the name Harmon Rabb, Sr. and said a silent prayer that he was still watching out for his son.

Suddenly feeling awkward, she turned to Harm. "Guess I'd better be going. I'm sorry for intruding on your time with him."

"You didn't. But I'm sure you have things to do."

"Not really. Just going back to my apartment."

"You don't have plans?"

"Not unless you consider sitting by the fireplace and reading a good book plans. Harriet invited me to their house tomorrow, but I declined."

"Yeah, she invited me too. I bowed out. Didn't figure I'd be good company."

Mac smiled. "I said the same thing. Look, I do need to go. And let you spend some more time with your dad."

"Thanks for checking on him, Mac. It means a lot that you thought of him."

"Any time. Maybe I'll see you around sometime." Mac turned to leave, then stopped. Her words from Paraguay suddenly invaded her thoughts.

_Things are never going to work out between us._

_Why did I say those words to him? _

She still remembered the look in his eyes. There was no mistaking the sadness in them.

And then it dawned on her what she had done. Harm resigned his commission to find her, and what did he get in return? A virtual slap in the face. Expedited paperwork from Chegwidden. And yes, she'd flaunted her so-called relationship with Clay every chance she got. It was no wonder he didn't want to talk to her. Had the situation been reversed, she wouldn't have answered his phone calls.

She turned back to him. "Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"What I said in Paraguay. I didn't mean it."

* * *

_A/N: A World Without Love by Peter and Gordon_


	6. This Masquerade

_A/N: I chose some of the songs for chapter titles simply because the name fits. For instance, "Wicked Game" is a great Harm and Mac song, but I selected it as the title of chapter three because of Clay's wicked manipulation of the situation. However, the lyrics of "This Masquerade" are so Harm and Mac. Lots of dialogue in this chapter but they need to have "the talk."_

**Vietnam Veterans Memorial  
December 24, 2003  
2100 Local**

_What I said in Paraguay. I didn't mean it._

Harm couldn't believe it. Mac had been adamant that the two of them didn't have a future. Surely, he misunderstood her words. He decided the best defense was a good offense.

"I appreciate what you did tonight for my Dad, but I don't want to rehash the last conversation we had in Paraguay. It's best to leave some things in the past."

"I think we need to talk about it."

"Why? So you can flaunt your relationship with Clay again? Twist the knife a little deeper?"

"Harm, I'm not in a relationship with Clay. We went out a few times. That's it."

"Not what I heard. Two days ago, he made sure to remind me of that."

"Then he lied. Yes, he wants more, but I told him no. Harm, please. Can we go somewhere and talk? This conversation is long overdue. Just please hear me out. Then, if you still feel the same way, I'll get out of your life and never bother you again."

Never. There was that word again. Harm didn't know if he could bear the idea of never seeing Mac. To go through life without her, even if she remained only a friend, wasn't something he looked forward to.

Mac was the reason he'd turned down the admiral's offer to return to JAG. His purpose for still being with the CIA. Just like he'd resigned his commission to save her in Paraguay, staying with the CIA was the best way he knew to protect her. When it came down to it, Mac was his sole purpose for living.

"You're right. One way or another, we need to put this thing to rest. I'll be in town for another few days. Give me a call when you want to meet. I promise I'll answer the phone this time."

"What's wrong with right now?"

She had a point. Harm kept putting off the discussion when they were in Paraguay. If he hadn't, they might have been able to work something out. "I guess there's no time like the present. We should go someplace where we have some privacy."

"My apartment is closer if you're okay with that."

"Yeah, it's fine. You parked on Constitution Avenue?"

Mac nodded.

"I'll follow you."

* * *

She watched as Harmon Rabb walked side by side with Sarah Mackenzie.

_Another missed opportunity. How am I supposed to seduce him if I can't even get close to him?_

She pulled her cell phone from her purse.

"Talk to me," the person on the other end said.

"Once again, things didn't go as planned. Are you positive you're telling me everything?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You might be interested who came to the wall. Rabb carried on a lengthy conversation with her, and they left together."

"Don't beat around the bush. Tell me."

"Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. JAG corps."

"Son of a bitch. You're sure?"

"You aren't paying me the big bucks to guess. Of course, I'm sure. But I've decided this job isn't worth it. You're going to have to find someone else to do your dirty work. I'm done with it." She ended the call, placed her cell phone in her purse, then walked away.

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
December 24, 2003  
2145 Local**

"Would you like some tea?" Mac asked as she and Harm entered her apartment.

"No, thanks. I'm all right."

"I'll make some for myself unless you're in a hurry."

"Mac, I told you I don't have any plans. I have all night to talk if that's what it takes. Go ahead. Make your tea."

"Let me know if you change your mind," She called over her shoulder as she entered the kitchen. Her hands shook a little as she filled the kettle with water.

_Relax. That's your best friend in the next room. No need to be nervous._

_He __**was**_ _your best friend. You destroyed that when you told him never._

While Mac waited for the water to boil, she thought back over the times she and Harm had "missed" one another. When he left to return to flying, it put a strain in their relationship that never completely healed.

Australia was the biggest blunder. She'd missed the signals somehow, and when Harm turned her down, she went straight into the arms of an eagerly waiting Mic Brumby. Then she allowed him to control and manipulate her.

The night she went to Harm after Mic left nearly destroyed her. It wasn't Renee's fault her father died, and Mac certainly didn't blame Harm for supporting his girlfriend. But it was another nail in the proverbial coffin. Finally, they had another chance, and this time, they had to get it right.

Mac poured water into her cup, waited for the tea to steep, then added a dash of honey. She'd dawdled long enough. She would open the conversation and hope Harm would talk. As she walked into the living room, she said a silent prayer that he wouldn't clam up this time.

He stood by the fireplace, looking at a photo of the two of them taken in Afghanistan.

His smile was wistful when he turned to her. "Seems like a lifetime ago when this was taken."

"Yeah. It was what—two, three years."

"Something like that." Harm sat on Mac's sofa.

She curled up in the chair opposite him. She needed to see his reactions while they talked. _Here goes nothing._

"I owe you an apology."

Harm's eyebrows shot up. "For what?"

"For the way I acted in Paraguay. The words I said. It took me months to realize what it must have sounded like, and I'm sorry. I offer no excuses for my behavior. I was wrong to treat you the way I did. I'm sorry. I understand now why you haven't wanted to talk to me. I can't blame you for that, but one time you were my best friend. I destroyed what we once had, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Once the words began, Mac found it hard to stop.

"Whoa, Mac. Slow down. Give me a chance to respond. For the record, yes, your words hurt. I was angry with you and that's the reason I ignored your calls. It also didn't help to have you mention Clay's name in several of them. It felt like you were rubbing salt in the wound."

Tears formed in Mac's eyes. "I'm sorry—I"

Harm held up his hand to stop her. "The blame isn't entirely on you. I could have acted differently. Given you straight answers, but I didn't."

"When you walked into that hut, I didn't think you cared. You acted like it was just another mission. You didn't even seem happy to see me."

"Happy? Mac, I had just killed several men in order to free you. I don't think happy was the right expression. I was relieved to know you were still alive. Gunny and I were kind of busy making sure we all got out alive, and I was running on pure adrenaline. There wasn't really time to reflect on my emotions."

"We had time to talk once we got back to the hotel. Why didn't you say something?"

"I felt it was important to complete the mission. Too many lives were in danger, and I wanted us to have plenty of time to discuss our relationship."

"Time? Harm, we've known one another eight years. How much time do we need?"

"Do you remember when I left JAG to return to flying? You told me you had a lot to say but couldn't find the words. I'm that way with you, Mac. I can talk to juries and have no trouble in the courtroom, but I always seem to get tongue-tied around you. Not to mention the fact we kept getting interrupted. Some of which I now believe was deliberate on Webb's part.

"What makes you say that?"

"Mac, please. Think about it. When you learned I'd resigned my commission, you said something to the effect of 'You did it for me.' Then Webb spoke up—quick to point out we were in the room where the two of you spent your honeymoon. Made sure to mention how comfortable the bed was."

"Harm, there was no honeymoon. And I certainly didn't share a bed with Clayton Webb in the way he implied."

"I know it now, and that's my point. Webb wanted to drive a wedge between us. I believe he's still trying."

"You could be right. Speaking of honeymoons, you didn't really marry Catherine Gale, did you?"

"No! What makes you think that?"

"Clay insinuated as much. Said the two of you had an open marriage."

"That bastard. It was a fake ceremony to appease Catherine's dying mother. I only agreed to it so that she would help me find you. I haven't spoken to her in months."

"So, she means nothing to you?"

"Just a friend. I have a question for you. Why did you bring up Webb's name in several of your phone calls to me?"

Mac took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "I shouldn't have done that. I did go out with Clay a few times but soon realized nothing was ever going to happen between us. He kept asking me out. I didn't want to go, but I thought maybe he would tell me something about you since you wouldn't answer my phone calls."

Harm shook his head. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are. Or we could be."

"What are you saying, Mac?"

She chewed on her lower lip. It was now or never. "I'm saying that I want to be a part of your life. If it's only as a friend, I guess I'll have to be okay with that."

"Then why did you say 'never' in Paraguay?"

Mac stood, then began to pace the room. "I don't know. Fatigue. Stress. Frustration. If I could take back the words, I would. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"So, how about it. Still want to be friends?"

"No."

She gasped. Now she was the one who felt like she'd been stabbed with a knife. Right through the heart. "You don't?"

He stood and walked to her. "No, Mac. I want us to be more than friends."

* * *

_A/N: This Masquerade by George Benson_


	7. In My Life

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry about the little twist there at the end of the last chapter with Harm's comment. Well, not really, I like a little drama. (LOL) Be forewarned – more drama and some angst are coming in future chapters but remember I'm a shipper all the way! In the meantime, let's enjoy our dynamic duo finally getting together._

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
December 25, 2003  
0914 Local**

Mac floated to the edge of sleep, trying to ignore the persistent ringing that awakened her. She opened her eyes, surprised to see it was broad daylight. Without looking at the nightstand, her internal clock told her it was 0914.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept this late or this good. Perhaps it had to do with the person beside her. She and Harm had talked until well after midnight, cuddling together on the sofa, until they both fell asleep. Mac had awakened at 0230 and suggested they go to bed.

Harm, ever the gentleman, offered the sleep on the sofa, but Mac wouldn't hear of it. "We've slept together before. No reason you can't sleep with me in my bed."

Although they shared several passionate kisses the night before, they hadn't yet taken the step of becoming lovers. Both of them sensed their newfound relationship was fragile, and neither of them wanted to do anything to upset the balance.

By mutual consent, they agreed to take things slow, although when Harm stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed, it was all Mac could do not to ravage him. He had filled out more since she'd called him stick boy, but it was all muscle.

He stirred in his sleep and mumbled something incoherent. When Mac tried to pull away to answer the phone, he put his arm around her waist and tried to draw her closer. "Harm, I need to answer the phone."

"Just ignore it, baby."

"Might be important." She rolled to her side and reached for the phone. "Hello," she said in a sleep-laden voice.

Harriet was on the other end. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. You were asleep."

"It's okay. Time to get up anyway. What's going on?"

"I wanted you to know the invitation for dinner is still on. You don't need to bring anything—just yourself. You seemed sad yesterday, and I hate for anyone to spend Christmas alone."

"Thanks, but I…" Her response was cut short when Harm began nuzzling her neck. "I'm not alo— I mean, I…" She resisted the urge to moan when Harm found a sensitive spot below her ear.

"Is something wrong, Ma'am?"

"Not a thing, Harriet. Thank you for the invitation, but I do have plan. And don't worry, I'm fine." She could picture Harriet's expression.

"Oh, my gosh. You have company. I hope I didn't interrupt anything. Sorry, it's none of my business, but I didn't realize you and Mr. Webb were that close."

Mac sat straight up in bed. She knew Harriet wasn't one to pry, but the insinuation there was anything intimate between her and Clayton Webb was too much.

"I am not involved with Clayton Webb, nor will I ever be!"

"I'm sorry. I knew you went out a few times and just assumed. Please forgive me."

"It's okay. I can understand why someone might think that."

"So, there's somebody new in your life?"

"You might say that." Mac looked at Harm, who had raised his eye in question. "Harriet," she mouthed silently.

"Well, then, I won't keep you. Merry Christmas!"

"Same to you. Tell Bud likewise and give the boys an extra hug for me." Mac ended the call. "She's going to be all over this when I go back to work on Monday—wanting to know who the new man in my life is."

"Tell her. Okay by me."

"Then, she's going to assume that we…"

Harm shrugged. "Well, it's only a matter of time."

Mac couldn't help but blush. This man had been her best friend for years, and he probably knew her better than anyone, but the thought of when they did become intimate sent warmth through her body. But she wanted their first time to be special. Romantic. "So, what do you want to do today?"

"Stay in bed."

"Well, right now, I'm hungry."

"Oh, that's right. You expect breakfast after a man spends the night. Got anything in the fridge?"

"The makings for omelets."

"Then allow me. I think I still owe you breakfast from that night we spent in the Appalachians."

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
December 25, 2003  
1030 Local**

Mac sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. "That was delicious, Flyboy." She stopped short at the use of the nickname she'd once given him. "I'm sorry. Guess I shouldn't call you that anymore."

"Mac, it's okay. I still fly planes. Just for the CIA."

"Yeah, you do at that. Hey, you made breakfast. I'll clean up."

Harm leaned over, then kissed her. "Let's do it together."

"Together. I like the sound of that," Mac said as she rose from the table.

Harm followed her into the kitchen. "So, Mac. What do you want to do today? Did I understand you right that you don't have to return to work until Monday?"

"That's right. I took tomorrow off. What about you?"

"Nothing until next week. I have an idea. Would you like to go out of town for a few days? I know the perfect spot—a cabin near Shenandoah National Park. Indoor hot tub, fireplace, kitchen. Secluded with a gorgeous view."

Mac's eyes grew wide. "Sounds wonderful, but it's probably booked."

"I can pretty much guarantee it's not. Let me make a phone call—one I need to make anyway." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, located the number, and waited for the other party to answer. "Hello, Frank. Calling to wish you and Mom and Merry Christmas… Hope it's not too early… Should have known Mom would already be up early… Sure, but I need to ask you something first… I'm hoping the cabin is available for the next few days… It is…" Harm nodded at Mac.

"Great… Yeah, I still have a key… No need to worry about food. We'll pick up what we need… Hi, Mom… Merry Christmas… Who am I taking with me to the cabin? What makes you think I'm not going alone?" He looked at Mac, raising his eyebrows in question.

She nodded.

"Okay, you're right. I am taking someone… It's Mac… That's good to know, Mom…Yes, I remember you once told me she was quite the girl… How long have we been dating? Not long… Okay, I'll tell her… Yes, I'm very fortunate to have her in my life right now… Tell Frank I said thanks… Bye." He ended the call.

"Your mother said something about me?" Mac asked.

"Just before we went to Russia. She's been hoping we'd get together for years."

"You never told me."

"Yeah, I kept quiet about a lot of things. But not anymore. So, how about it? Would you like to spend a long weekend with me?"

"I would love to spend the weekend with you, Harmon Rabb, Jr."

Harm pulled her into his arms, and their lips met. Mac willingly opened her mouth to his questing tongue. His hands roamed over her body, and she shivered as they made their way beneath her blouse. She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it being slightly longer. Desire pooled between Mac's legs and she whimpered when the need for air forced them apart.

Both were breathing hard. Mac was tempted to say to hell with the cabin and pull him into the bedroom. But she knew getting away from everything, and everyone would be nice. After she had a couple of minutes to catch her breath, she said. "So, uh, what kind of clothes do I need to pack?"

Harm's voice was husky. "You won't need many."

Mac's breath caught in her throat.

"Seriously, just casual things—jeans, sweaters, the like. If we have time, we can hike in the nearby mountains."

"As long as it doesn't involve crazed poachers."

"We need to swing by my place so I can throw some things together. The weather is supposed to be nice, but just the same, I think its best we take the Lexus. We should get there by late afternoon."

"Give me ten minutes, and I'll be ready."

* * *

He drove through the quiet streets of Georgetown with one destination in mind. Sarah Mackenzie's apartment. He didn't want to believe what he'd heard last night, but he had to see for himself.

When he turned onto the familiar street, he saw Sarah Mackenzie's car in its usual place. But parked behind it was a classic 1968 Corvette. There couldn't be too many like that in DC. No doubt who it belonged to.

He drove by slowly, resisting the urge to stop. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Rabb had probably spent the night.

Damn. The man has managed to weasel his way back into her life_._ This was something he couldn't allow. Them being together would mess up the entire plan. Somehow, he had to find a way to keep them apart.

* * *

_A/N: In My Life by The Beatles_


	8. Count on Me

_A/N: Sorry for the long time in updating. I can't seem to get my muse to cooperate. This one is adults only. Enjoy…_

**Count on Me**

**Remote Cabin – Virginia Countryside  
December 25, 2003  
1715 Local**

Harm pulled the Lexus onto a winding gravel road that led into the forest. They had gotten a late start from DC, and even though he'd made Mac an enormous breakfast (by his standards), she complained of being hungry on the drive down.

He found a truck stop with a twenty-four-hour restaurant. Mac ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. Not for the first time, Harm wondered where she put all that food and still managed to maintain her slender frame.

Fortunately for him, they had an extensive salad bar. As usual, Mac teased him about eating his eating habits. "I don't know how you manage to keep your strength only salad."

"My strength is just fine, thank you." He wanted to add he would show her just how much stamina he had but figured their newfound relationship was still a bit precarious, and he didn't want to do anything to rock the boat.

Mac gasped in surprise when he rounded a corner, and the cabin came into view. It was secluded but still offered breathtaking views of the surrounding hills.

"You like it?"

"It's beautiful. I had no idea your stepfather owned property in Virginia."

"He bought it as an investment. For a while, they contracted through a property management firm to rent it out as a vacation home. But when the contract expired, Frank decided to allow only family and close friends to use it. I think he and Mom have stayed here less than a dozen times over the years." Harm parked the Lexus near the front entrance.

"If this were my place, I'd come every chance I'd get," Mac said as she got out of the car.

"Leave our things for now. I'll get them later. We are just in time to see the sunset."

The two-story log cabin had a wrap-around porch with an outdoor hot tub. The inside had vaulted ceilings, a rock fireplace, and floor to ceiling windows in the living room. While chilly, the inside temperature wasn't unbearable, but Harm adjusted the thermostat. "I'll build a fire later. Frank said there was plenty of firewood."

Mac hurried to look at the setting sun. Harm walked up behind and put his arms around her. She leaned back against his hard body. "It's like a picture," she said.

They stood and watched silently as the sun dipped below the horizon. Finally, Mac turned in his arms. "Thank you for this."

"My pleasure," he said as their lips met.

Mac willingly opened her mouth to Harm's probing tongue, and she allowed hers to dance with his. Being with him felt good. Right. She wondered what it would feel like to take him inside her. It wasn't the first time she'd fantasized about making love with him.

Shortly after they'd met, she told him that dress whites and gold wings were overrated. But when she entered his room in Columbia all those years ago, it was all she could stand not to throw herself at him. He'd looked so damned handsome in that uniform.

Mac felt his growing arousal against her stomach, and she moaned as his hands skimmed the sides of her breasts. Finally, the need for air forced them apart. Breathless, they pulled away from one another.

Harm's voice was husky when he spoke. "As much as I want to continue this, it will be dark soon. We need our bags from the car, and I also want to bring some wood inside. That is if you'd like a fire."

"That would be nice." Mac gave him a quick peck on the lips, then glanced around the room. She glanced around the room. "So, where is everything?"

"There are two bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom and bath are through that door. Look around while I bring our things inside."

Mac waited until Harm left before entering the bedroom. It was spacious with a breathtaking view of the surrounding area. A large jacuzzi tub was in one corner near the windows, and French doors opened to the deck.

A king-sized bed, matching bedside tables and dresser, a love seat, lounge chair, and lamp completed the room's furnishings. Everything was of the finest quality, which came as no surprise to Mac.

The bath was equally spacious with a double walk-in shower. Mac couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to share it with Harm, and her body tingled in anticipation. Walking back into the bedroom, she glanced at the jacuzzi. It was large enough for two people. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't hear him enter the room.

"I'll put our things in the closet. That is unless you want me to sleep upstairs."

"We shared a bed last night, didn't we?"

Harm's voice grew husky. "But last night, all we did was sleep."

"It's okay, Harm. Put _our _things in here." Mac wasn't sure why the thought of _really sleeping _with Harm suddenly made her nervous. She'd dreamed of the moment almost from the first time they met.

"So, how many women have you brought to this place?" she asked

"Why would you think I'd brought anyone here?"

She half smiled, trying to keep the mood in teasing banter. "Come on. No long-legged blondes?"

"Despite what you might think, I don't flirt with every skirt that walks past me. I've never brought another woman here."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You haven't? I would have thought—"

"Mac, there was a time when you could say I was a sailor with a woman in every port. Before I… Doesn't matter. Believe it or not, I'm not that man anymore. I'm going to start the fireplace. You can join me whenever."

_Oh, God. What have I done?_

It was thirty-two minutes and twenty-seven seconds before Mac dared to emerge from the bedroom. She hadn't intended to offend Harm or hurt his feelings. Her nervousness got the best of her.

So, she'd spent the last half-hour trying to calm herself.

_Relax, that's your best friend in there. Your best friend who wants to have an intimate relationship with. Isn't that what you've wanted for years?_

_Yeah, since Australia. No Russia. No, the time in the Appalachian Mountains. No, since Red Rock Mesa, or really since the Rose Garden._

Now they were so close, and she'd managed to screw it up. Harm was usually the one to open mouth and insert foot, not her. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room. He sat on the sofa facing the fireplace, head back, and eyes closed. A small table lamp and the fire provided the only light.

Mac stopped and drank in the sight of him. He was still the most handsome man she'd ever met. He looked different with the beard and longer hair, but she liked it. He would have never been able to get away with that if he was still in the Navy.

_There was a time when you could say I was a sailor with a woman in every port... I'm not that man anymore_

Mac gasped. The Navy. Forced to leave after getting in his twenty years. Two DFCs, a silver star. Years spent flying F14s, then becoming a Jag lawyer. All that was gone. He'd given it all up. For her.

And what had she done? Not some much as even thanked him. Didn't defend his actions before the admiral. Her words, "But sir, he saved my life," were pathetic.

Had the situation been reversed, Harm would have gone the distance. He would have pointed out how Chegwidden had gone from the stance of "no man left behind" to a suck ass weakling who catered to the SECNAV's every whim. He wouldn't have cared about being brought up on charges.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realized just what Harm had sacrificed for her. She was angry with him in Paraguay because he wouldn't say the words. But his actions spoke much louder.

"Mac, what's wrong?" Harm sprang from the sofa and rushed to her. "Why are you crying?"

"I… I'm sor.. Sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. I realize you were teasing about me bringing other women here. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. Come, sit down." He led her to the couch, then sat beside her.

"No, it's not that. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I should never have taken that assignment in Paraguay. If I hadn't, you'd still be in the Navy. You gave it all up for me, and I never even thanked you." She laid her head on his shoulder and wept.

Harm kissed the top of her head. "Mac, honey, it's okay. Don't cry."

She sniffled, then managed a smile. "Don't want to give the corps a bad name."

"You'd never do that,' he said, pulling her into his arms.

The kiss was gentle at first, then Harm's tongue touched the seam of her lips, asking permission to enter. Mac willingly opened her mouth to his exploring tongue. All the while, Harm's hands weren't idle as they caressed Mac beneath her sweater. Her tongue meshed with his as they tasted one another.

They broke apart briefly for air only to come together once again. When Harm ran his hands beneath her sweater, Mac reluctantly pulled away and raised her arms so he could remove it. He reached for the front clasp of her bra, then deftly flicked it open, allowing Mac's ample breasts spilled forth.

He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her before his mouth latched onto one cinnamon nipple. Mac's head tilted back in pleasure as he nursed from her. She'd waited so long for them to be together. It couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. She opened her eyes to see his dark head buried between her breasts.

_It is real. Not a dream._

Then her eyes noticed something else. The windows were bare.

"Um, Harm."

His voice was husky. "Yeah, babe?"

"The windows. Someone could see us."

"Maac," he said, drawing out her name. "Now who's being a prude?"

"I'm not! It's just that—"

"The cabin is on ten acres of private property that backs up to a national forest. Not likely anyone is nearby, and if they were, Frank has some pretty sophisticated security equipment. Do you really want me to stop?" His hand brushed her hardened nipple, causing her to moan in pleasure.

"No. Don't. Please don't stop."

As Harm continued his ministrations, Mac began exploring on her own, running her hands down his muscular back. She tugged at his shirt, wanting to pull it free from his jeans. She'd seen him shirtless before and wanted to run her fingers through what she knew was the right amount of chest hair. It tapered to his flat abs, and she longed to see the part of him she'd only dreamed about.

Harm helped her to pull his shirt over his head, which Mac tossed across the room. He lay back on the sofa pulling her on top of him. Both topless, the sensation of skin against skin made Mac want more. She could feel his growing erection straining against his jeans as she ran her hand over him.

Mac lowered with his zipper, then reached inside his boxers to wrap her fingers around his already swollen shaft.

Harm groaned with pleasure.

"You like?"

"Oh, yeah. But if you keep that up, this is going to be over before it begins." He pulled her hand away, then went to work on getting her out of her jeans. Clothes flew as they frantically undressed one another. Finally, the two of them were completely naked.

Harm stood, then took her hand and led her to the rug in front of the fireplace, their hands still caressing one another, tongues still dueling. There would come a time for slow and easy, but for now, there had been too many years of pent up passion.

"Mac, I don't think I can be gentle," Harm said as he prepared to enter her.

"Don't be gentle. Be good."

And he was.

**Remote Cabin – Virginia Countryside  
December 26, 2003  
0945 Local**

Mac blinked as she awakened When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see it was well after the break of day. She figured it must be mid-morning. After a night of lovemaking, her internal clock was all out of whack. But at this point, who cared?

She snuggled deeper beneath the covers, relishing the feel of the strong arm wrapped around her waist and the naked body beside her.

_Harm. _

Her one-time partner. Her best friend. Her lover. After their initial love-making session by the fireplace, Harm had carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. Their second time was slow and gentle, with each of them taking the time to explore one another's bodies.

They couldn't get enough of one another. They made love a third time while sharing the shower and then a fourth.

Mac smiled. Maybe today, they'd share the whirlpool.

She felt Harm stir and turned to face him. His hair was mussed. He looked adorable as he opened his baby blue eyes. Last night, they had been smoky gray with passion.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey, yourself."

"What time is it?"

"Around 0930 or so."

Harm cocked an eyebrow. "What? You mean your internal clock isn't working?"

"You knocked it out of whack."

"Oh, I did, huh?"

"I'm confident it will come back." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Happy?"

"Extremely. And you?"

"Never better."

Mac looked away, lost in thought.

"Something on your mind?"

"Just thinking. Men have waltzed in and out of my life, but you've always been there."

"Not always. Not for the last six months…"

"Well, most of that was my fault. I wanted to be angry with you, but I couldn't be. Deep down inside I know I could always count on you."

"You can always count on me. I don't ever want to leave you again Mac."

"And I don't want you to."

* * *

_A/N: Count on Me by Jefferson Starship_


	9. Time

_A/N: There are several songs titled "Time," but I chose this one because of the lyrics. In a way, it's sad. "Who knows when we shall meet again. If ever…" And I know the "ring thing" has been done before, but humor me, okay?_

**Time**

**Remote Cabin – Virginia Countryside  
December 26, 2003  
1100 Local**

The new lovers lay tangled together, sweat covering their bodies. As their breathing returned to normal, Mac glanced at the bedside clock. Another hour had passed, but she still wasn't in a hurry to move from the bedroom.

She reached out to stroke Harm's face, not accustomed to seeing him with a beard. "What made you decide to do this?"

"I was on a mission. Didn't have adequate facilities. When you need to shave as often as I do, it doesn't take long to grow a beard. Decided to keep it a while. Do you not like it?"

Mac remembered Harm commenting shaving twice a day years earlier before their assignment at the Sudanese Embassy. She'd often wondered what he'd look like with even a five o'clock shadow. "I do like it. Makes you look well, a bit rugged and virile."

Harm frowned. "A _bit _virile?"

"A bit rugged. And you are _extremely_ virile." That was an understatement. He had the stamina of someone almost half his age. Mac was hard-pressed to remember the number of times they made love during the night. If she had her way, they would stay in bed all day. However, she was starting to get hungry.

"We missed breakfast. What about lunch?"

"You and your stomach, Marine."

"Figure we need to eat to keep our strength up."

Harm grinned. "Yeah, I guess we do.

"Any food around here?"

"There are a few non-perishables, but we'll need to drive into town to pick up some things. We can eat lunch there, and then tonight I'll make dinner."

"Fine by me as long as it's not your meatless meatloaf."

"You'll never let me live that one down, will you?"

"Not on your life."

Harm got out of bed. "I need to get a shower. Care to join me?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"If I do that, we'll never eat lunch."

He flashed his flyboy grin. "Good point."

"You go first, then I'll shower." Mac watched as he walked to the bathroom, her eyes taking in the sight of his naked body—well-defined pecs, flat abs, near-perfect six. And yes, Harm was well-endowed. She'd often wondered, now she knew. Truth was, she was a little sore after their night of lovemaking. One thing was sure. He wasn't a prude. Why she'd ever thought that was a mystery.

**On the Road to DC  
December 28, 2003  
1500 Local**

After spending three glorious days in the mountains, Mac hated having to return to DC. She'd love to hole up in the cabin for a couple of weeks. Being with Harm made it so easy to forget everything that had happened over the past few months. Well, maybe not forgetting but forgiving.

Although they spent a lot of time in the bedroom, they did talk about a lot of things—Harm's inability to say what he was thinking. The mistakes they made as a result of the disastrous ferry ride in Australia. Mac's tendency to run rather than face a problem. There were still a few things to work through, but they'd made progress.

There was only one thing more thing Mac wished for. Harm had been loving and tender. He made her feel like the most special woman on earth. But he hadn't told her he loved her.

He was relatively quiet most of the drive home. It wasn't until they neared the outskirts of the city that he spoke.

"Mac, I've been thinking. About my job. I could get called away anytime on a mission. In fact, I expect I'll be going somewhere soon. Some of the places I go are— Let's just say not everyone rolls out the red carpet. I could—"

"Harm, please don't say it. We're finally together in every sense of the word. I don't want to lose you."

A tear ran down her cheek, and Harm reached to wipe it away. "Hey, Ninja Girl. Don't cry. I have every intention of coming back to you. Now that we're finally together, I don't want to lose you either."

"I promise you, no matter what happens, you'll never lose me." Mac grimaced at her words. The same words she'd said on the admiral's porch. And yet, she'd been the one to run away. "And I really mean it this time, Harm. You won't lose me."

"Hell, none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. Think about those people in the Twin Towers or the Pentagon two years ago. Anything could happen."

"Harm, you're scaring me. What's up? Is the CIA sending you out on some dangerous mission?"

"Mac, you know I can't talk about it, but as far as I know, there's nothing other than the usual stuff."

"Then why talk like something _is _going to happen?"

"I'm not saying anything will." They were passing by a shopping mall, and he nodded. "Mind if we stop here? I want to you a piece of jewelry. Something to wear when I'm not around to remember me by."

"Harm, you don't need to give me anything. I've already told you I'm not going anywhere and, well, face it, you're a hard person to forget." Mac laughed as she spoke, trying to soothe the sudden case of nerves that overcame her.

"I'm serious, Mac. I know it's early in our relationship, but this is something I want to do."

Ten minutes later, they were in a jewelry store. Mac wasn't sure what he had in mind. Maybe earrings or a necklace. But Harm surprised her when he asked the jeweler if they had any rings in the Meander pattern. "Something in her size," he said, nodding toward Mac.

The woman's face lit up. "Yes, we do." She led them to a display case that contained several rings designed with an ancient Greek pattern.

Mac was a bit perplexed by Harm's choice since he didn't have any Greek ancestry. At least, she didn't think he did.

The clerk spoke again. "You probably know Meander symbolizes infinity and eternal flow. It also represents the bonds of love, friendship, and devotion."

"What do you think, Mac?" His bright blue eyes shown in anticipation.

"It's perfect. Under one condition." She turned to the clerk. "Do you have the same ring in men's sizes?"

* * *

_A/N: Time by The Alan Parsons Project_


	10. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

_A/N: For the record, I hated the entire storyline with Sadik, and his character was creepy. (What didn't I hate about Season nine?) But for the sake of this story, he'll make a brief appearance. The part about Sadik is a little meh, but it is what it is. Jackie and Darcey – as promised, I finished the chapter today! _

**Knockin' On Heaven's Door**

**JAG Headquarters  
December 29, 2003  
0800 Local**

Mac walked into JAG Headquarters with a lighter heart than she'd had for seven months. Change that. In more than a year. The last time she'd been this happy was Christmas a year earlier.

Okay, she'd been a little—a lot—anxious when Harm was late to arrive at the Roberts's house. Especially since she knew he was flying a Tomcat in. But she'd relaxed after he arrived. Later, after dinner, they bantered cheerfully.

And just when she thought their relationship was going somewhere, came the fiasco with Lauren Singer. Things only went downhill from there.

As she got on the elevator, Mac looked at the ring on her right hand. It was simple but brought her much more joy than the large diamond Mic had forced on her. Thinking back, wearing it felt like a noose. Wearing Harm's ring made her feel loved. And he'd readily agreed to wear an identical one.

They had spent last night at her apartment since she had to get up early for work. They planned to stay at his place tonight. "We still need to christen my bed," Harm said as he kissed her goodbye. The mere thought caused a familiar tingling. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on her current caseload.

When Mac walked into the bullpen, Harriet was already at her desk. "Good morning, ma'am. I trust you had a wonderful Christmas."

"I did, Harriet. And how about you?"

"It was wonderful. Little A.J. was so excited over all his gifts. He's at that age when everything is a wonder. "So, uh… Did you do anything special?"

Mac smiled inwardly. She should be upfront with Harriet. The junior officer had been a good friend over the years. "I went out of town. Spent the last few days in a private cabin in Virginia."

"Sounds wonderful. I'm assuming you weren't alone."

Mac shook her head.

"Okay, so who is the new man in your life?"

"Let's go into my office." Even though Harm was okay with her telling others about their relationship, she was reluctant to talk in the middle of the bullpen. Especially if Admiral Chegwidden walked in. Yes, he'd offered Harm his old job back, but Mac sensed there was still some animosity between the two men.

Harriet followed, then closed the door. Her eyes grew wide with excitement when Mac held out her right hand. It reminded Mac of another time, years earlier.

_Anyway, it's just a friendship ring. Mic's in Australia, and I'm here._

_Well, when Bud and I first met, I was on the Seahawk, and he was here, and we managed to get together. But I knew from the start he was the one for me. It helps if you're sure._

She should have listened to her friend's advice. If she had… _Don't go there. You're with Harm now. That's all that matters. _

"Sort of déjà vu, huh?"

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone. That is, I thought you went out with Mr. Webb a few times, but you said a few days ago it wasn't him."

"Definitely not Clayton Webb."

"So, is it someone you met recently? Anyone I know?"

"No, it's someone I've known for a while, and yes, you know him."

"The Commander?" Harriet shrieked.

Mac smiled. "Yeah, we finally worked things out."

Ignoring protocol, Harriet hugged Mac. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm happy too."

"So, tell me about the ring. It's an interesting design."

"It's Greek. Harm picked it." Mac explained the symbolism of the Meander pattern.

"That's perfect for the two of you. I suppose you gave one to Harm as well?"

Mac nodded.

"I have to ask. Why the right hand?"

"As a promise of things to come. Look, Harriet, don't spread this around. I'm okay with Bud knowing, and Harm keeps in touch with Sturgis, but—"

"You're not sure about the admiral."

"Harm hasn't said anything, but I believe he still has some animosity toward our CO."

"Is Harm still with the CIA?

Mac lowered her voice. "Yea. That's the only problem. He can't talk too much about his work but, I worry about him getting called away on some dangerous mission. We've waited so long to get together. I worry something could happen."

"Don't go there. Just focus on the good things and enjoy the times you are together."

_Right. Easier said than done._

**North of Union Station  
January 8, 2004  
2130 Local**

Mac lay on her side, snuggled against Harm, idly drawing circles on his chest. He had one arm wrapped around her, and their breathing had returned to normal. Their lovemaking had been intense. Not that it wasn't always that way, but Mac sensed something different in Harm. Almost a desperation.

Maybe it was because they'd been apart for a week. Harm had to leave on New Year's Day. Although he'd called a couple of times, his messages had been brief. But when he called this morning, she'd been elated to know he was back in town and at his apartment. He seemed tired, but upbeat. But after she arrived at his place, he'd acted differently—quiet, reflective. Much like the way he acted on their drive back from their long weekend at the cabin.

"You okay?"

"Never better."

They lay in silence for a few minutes – Mac knew it was precisely three minutes and thirty-two seconds before Harm spoke. "Hey, Mac. Did you bring a uniform for tomorrow? You are going to stay tonight, aren't you?'

"Of course, I'm staying. Remember, you told me to hang the uniform in your closet when I got here."

"Oh yeah. That's right."

"Something is bothering you. Talk to me, Harm."

He pulled away, then the side of the bed, his back toward her. "I got a call just before you got here. I have to leave again tomorrow."

"But Harm, you just got home. Can't you have a day or two to rest? Never mind. I guess the CIA is like the military in that aspect. When duty calls."

Harm stood up, pulled on his boxers, then padded to the kitchen.

Mac grabbed a robe, wrapped it around herself, and followed Harm. He pulled a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, opened it, then took a drink. Although they hadn't discussed it, he'd refrained from drinking around Mac, so she was a bit surprised.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, or even if I'll get a chance to call you."

"Harm, you weren't able to call that much on your last mission. I understand."

"No, Mac. This is. It's different. I…" He sighed, then poured the remainder of his beer into the sink. "This mission is… well, let's say we're close to something and I… You know I can't talk about it."

"I know. Such is life with the CIA. All classified."

"I'll be damned if I use that term, especially around you. Reminds me too much of…" His voice trailed away.

"Webb. I don't like the word either, but I really do understand."

"I don't want any secrets between the two of us, Mac, but you know I can't talk about it." He slammed his fists on the counter. "Damn it, sometimes I hate this job."

Mac put her arms around Harm's waist and laid her head on his chest. "It's going to be okay, Harm."

He kissed the top of her head. "I hope so, babe. I hope so."

**Undisclosed Warehouse, Washington, DC  
January 11, 2004  
2200 Local**

Harm waited quietly in the dark warehouse. He wished he had Mac's sense of timing. It felt like he'd been here for hours, but he dared not illuminate his watch. His partner, Brandon Vance was a few feet away.

With every minute that passed, Harm's heart rate seemed to increase. This was it. He felt it somehow. The moment was near when they would bring Sadiq Fahd to justice. Now that Webb was off the case, Kershaw was confident their source of information was reliable.

The plan was for a man who went by the name Juan Garcia to meet with a contact about the purchase of missiles. The plan had been carefully executed. Now it a matter of waiting. And Harm was growing more impatient by the minute.

A quarter-hour later, a door opened. Harm listened as the footsteps drew closer, and the man finally came into view. He stepped from behind a row of crates. There was no doubt this was the chameleon.

"Garcia. I'd almost given up on you coming."

Sadik shrugged. "I was unavoidably detained. So, where's the merchandise?"

"You'll see them as soon as you fork over the payment. First, the diamonds."

"You don't trust me?"

"In my line of work, I've learned to trust no one. Now, where are they?"

"Impatient, aren't you?"

"Look, Garcia. You aren't the only one who wants the missiles. You either want them, or you don't. Makes no difference to me who I sell them to. Make up your mind."

"Okay, okay." Fahd reached into his pocket and pulled out a large pouch. "I think you'll agree these are the finest quality.

Harm approached him, gun in hand.

"Hold it right there, Fahd."

Harm turned at the sound of a familiar voice. One that wasn't supposed to be here. The next few seconds were a blur. '

The sound of gunfire.

The rush of pain to his chest.

The clang as his weapon hit the warehouse floor a second before he fell.

More gunshots, then Brandon's voice saying, "Harm, are you okay?"

Unable to respond.

"Call an ambulance. He's been hit in the chest. Damn it, Webb. Do it now! Hold on, buddy, we're going to get you help."

The voice grew fainter as he floated into darkness.

* * *

_A/N: Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan_


	11. I've Gotta Get a Message to You

_A/N: Are you ready to kill Webb? Me too! The title of this chapter comes from a song about a man in prison about to die for a murder he committed. Before he draws his last breath, he wants to get a message to the woman he loves. I don't know the logistics of GWU Hospital, so any errors are my own. _

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment**  
**January 12, 2004  
0010 Local**

Sleep had evaded Mac since Harm left for his latest mission. Truth was she always rested better when he was with her, but during his previous mission, she had managed to get in a few winks each night. All she could do tonight was toss and turn.

She had been uneasy since Harm left. Maybe it was because of the way he'd acted their last evening together. Mac had eventually coaxed him back to bed, but he was restless, often talking in his sleep. His words were mostly mumbled, but she heard him call her name several times.

Mac turned to her side, grabbed the extra pillow, and wrapped her arms around it. Not the same as cuddling with Harm, but it would have to suffice.

_Please come home soon, Harm. And please stay safe._

With warm thoughts of her lover, Mac drifted off to sleep.

The old warehouse was dark inside—almost too dark to see. She tiptoed so as not to alert anyone to her presence. Although it looked deserted, Mac sensed there were others here, hiding behind the rows of crates and boxes.

She found what she thought was a good place to hide, then waited. It wasn't long before the door opened and a man stepped inside. Mac's pulse accelerated as he drew near. This man brought danger; of that she was sure. But who was he?

He walked past without seeing her, then stopped when another man spoke. She couldn't see the second man's face. He was tall, and he carried a gun. The two men talked, then the first pulled a pouch from his pocket.

That's when all hell broke loose. Another voice. Shots rang out. The man with the pouch pulled a weapon and fired at the taller man. He went down. Two other men stepped into the open, both of them armed. They fired several shots at the assailant, and he crumpled on the floor, blood pouring from his bullet-riddled body.

"What the hell are you doing here? You had orders to stay away from this mission."

"To hell with orders. This was supposed to be my operation."

"Well, thanks to you, my partner is down. Call an ambulance." He rushed to the downed agent. Mac watched as he felt the carotid artery.

"He's alive. Damnit, don't just stand there. Call 9-1-1 NOW!"

She stepped from her hiding place, inexplicably drawn to the downed agent. And that's when she saw his face.

"Harm!"

Mac bolted up in bed, her breathing rapid, her pulse accelerated.

_Calm down. It was only a nightmare._

She willed herself to breathe normally.

_But you've had dreams before that came true. When Chloe was lost. When someone killed Commander Aiken. _

When the phone rang, she knew. _No. No. Please, God, no. _Summoning her courage, she answered. "Hello?"

"Is this Sarah Mackenzie?"

"Yes, it is."

"I'm Brandon Vance, Harm's partner. I'm sorry to tell you he's been an accident. Harm's been shot in the chest."

"Oh, God. Is he?"

"Alive. He's at George Washington University Hospital. They just rushed him into surgery."

"He's in Washington? I thought he was away on a mission."

"He was on a mission. Right here in DC. I'm at the hospital. I thought you'd want to come."

"I'm on my way." Mac hung up the phone, then hurried to her closet. She was dressed and out the door less than five minutes later.

**George Washington University Hospital  
January 12, 2004  
0130 Local**

Mac paced the surgical waiting room. Harm was still in surgery, and there had been no word on his condition.

Brandon Vance sat in a chair—the only other person in the room. "Col. Mackenzie? Do you want some coffee?"

How could he think about that now? She wanted to lash out at him. At anyone. But Vance seemed like a nice person. Harm had spoken highly of his new partner. She didn't have the answers to what happened tonight but felt sure whatever went wrong wasn't this man's fault.

"No, thank you." She continued to pace. "I just wish we had some kind of news."

"He's a strong person. Has plenty of reasons to live—the biggest one right here in this room. I'm sure he'll be okay."

Mac stopped pacing and managed a weak smile. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do if—"

She turned at the sound of someone entering the room. A man dressed in surgical scrubs approached her. "Sarah Mackenzie?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Marshall. Mr. Rabb has you listed as his next of kin. He took two shots to the chest but came through the surgery with no complications. The bullets missed any vital organs. However, he did lose a lot of blood. We're giving him a transfusion. We'll keep him sedated and on a ventilator for now."

"When can I see him?"

"He'll be moved to SICU within the hour. Visiting hours begin at 0700. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? No point in you waiting here."

"I'm not going anywhere. Just tell me where ICU is."

The doctor sighed. "Very well. It's on the second floor. There's a waiting room outside the unit."

"Thank you, doctor."

**SICU Waiting Room  
January 12, 2004  
0704 Local**

As much as she tried, Mac found it impossible to sleep during the night. At 0645, she stood, then began to pace the floor. Twenty minutes later, she began to lose patience. "It's past 0700. Why doesn't someone let me in?"

Brandon Vance looked up from where he sat. He'd waited all night with Mac, even though she'd insisted he go home. "That's my partner in there. I'm staying until I hear some news," he had said.

"I'm sure they'll be out soon. You look tired, Colonel. I know you probably don't want to leave, but after you see Harm, why don't you go home and try to sleep?"

Her answer was the same she'd given the doctor hours earlier. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. And by the way, call me Mac. That's what my friends call me." She liked this man. Her instincts told her he was someone who could be trusted—someone who didn't hold to the CIA's usual MO of abandoning an agent if they got caught or something went wrong.

"Okay, Mac." He smiled.

She turned when a clerk walked up to the desk outside the unit doors. "Can I go in now?"

"Your name?"

"Sarah Mackenzie. I'm here for Harmon Rabb."

The clerk punched a few keys, then looked at the computer screen. "Okay, Ms. Mackenzie. Mr. Rabb is in room 243. Fifth door on the right. You can stay for fifteen minutes." She pressed a button that automatically opened the doors.

Mac walked swiftly down the hallway, then paused outside Harm's room to prepare herself for what she would see. Harm had always been strong and healthy. Seeing him in a setting where he was potentially fighting for his life was another matter.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. The person lying in bed looked nothing like the strong, healthy man she knew. He was pale and had more tubes coming out of him than she wanted to count. A nurse stood at the head of the bed, checking his vital signs. She at Mac.

"Should I come back?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be finished in a few minutes," the nurse said.

Mac walked to the bedside, then started to reach for Harm's hand, but quickly pulled away."

"It's okay to touch him. You can talk to him too. He's sedated, of course, but a familiar voice is often the best medicine patients can get. I'll leave the two of you alone now."

Mac waited until the nurse had left the room before speaking softly. "Hey there, flyboy. What's the deal with you scaring me like this? I thought you were somewhere on the other side of the world. Your partner called to tell me what happened and I got here as soon as I could.

"Harm, I have so many things to say to you, but you know me. I can't seem to find the words. I promise you as soon as you can hear me, I'll have plenty to say. But I can't take too much of this kind of thing. I told you once that no matter what happened, you would never lose me. I need you to promise me the same thing. I can't lose you now. Please get better soon."

She continued whispering to him, all the time holding his hand. Before long, the minutes were up.

The same nurse entered the room. "I'm sorry you'll have to leave now. It's time to change his dressings."

"Okay. When can I see him again?"

"At 10:00. The doctor wants to wean him off the vent. If all goes well, he'll be on regular oxygen by this afternoon, and we'll bring him out of sedation."

"Thank you." Mac turned back to the bed, leaned close to Harm, and whispered in his ear. "I'll be back flyboy. I love you."

* * *

Brandon Vance was still in the waiting room when Mac returned. "How is he?"

"He looks pale, but according to his nurse, they're going to wean him off the vent. That's a good sign, I guess."

"Sounds promising." Brandon stifled a yawn.

"You've been up all night. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"Can't. Got to go to Langley for debriefing. Something I'm not looking forward to."

"Brandon, I know your work is classified, but can you tell me what happened?"

"We were on a mission. Harm was working undercover as a diamond smuggler. We were to meet with the suspect in a warehouse."

Mac gasped. _My dream._

"A warehouse?"

"Yes. I was there, hiding behind the scenes. Harm was just about to make the switch when another agent who wasn't supposed to be there showed up. Had orders to stay away from the case. Everything happened fast. Harm caught a bullet, then we took down the assailant."

"Why did the other agent disobey orders?"

"It was originally his case. Didn't like the fact that someone else, well that Harm, had stepped on his turf. If he hadn't shown up, Harm wouldn't have been shot. We had Fahd right where we wanted him."

"Fahd? Sadik Fahd?"

Brandon nodded.

"Was the other agent Clayton Webb?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but yes."

**SICU  
January 12, 2004  
0745 Local**

Harm stirred restlessly. He heard voices. Unfamiliar ones.

"He's starting to come out of sedation."

"It's too soon. Not until we extubate him."

_Where am I? The last thing I remember, I was about to make a deal with Sadik Fahd. We were at a warehouse._

_Voices. Gunshots. The pain. Then darkness. _

_Mac. I heard her voice. Wherever it is I'm at, she was here. I'm sure of it. Did she say what I think she said?_

_I have to get out of here. I need to talk to her. Tell her how I feel. I've never told her that I love her._

The voices again.

"Something's happening. His pulse rate is too high. Blood pressure skyrocketing. Quick. Call a code."

_A/N: I've Gotta Get a Message to You by the Bee Gees_


	12. Heart of Stone

_A/N: Yes, I like to end with cliffhangers. I planned for this section as part of the last chapter, but it started getting long. Thanks to minimindbender for answering my medical questions. Hope I didn't make it unrealistic. _

**George Washington University Hospital  
January 12, 2004  
0730 Local**

Clayton Webb sat in his shiny black Porsche outside the hospital. Although he didn't stick around the warehouse long enough for the ensuing commotion, his sources told him Vance had gone directly to the hospital without waiting to be debriefed.

The thought occurred that he probably should get out of town and lay low for a while, but he couldn't help himself. He had to see Sarah first. Needed to let her know he would be there for her. He wasn't sure of the severity of Harm's injury, but if he didn't pull through…

It wasn't long before he saw Vance exit the building. Clay waited until he drove away before getting out of the car. He inquired at the information desk, then made his way toward the elevator and the second floor.

* * *

Mac waited until Brandon left the hospital before phoning her CO. She'd put off calling him as long as she could, unsure of how Chegwidden would take the news about Harm. Depending on his mood, he could order her to come into the office. She'd heard him say plenty of times in the past few months, "We're short-handed around here, people."

She placed the call, asked Coates to put her through, then waited. It was one minute and thirty-nine seconds before he answered. "Chegwidden."

At least he didn't sound too gruff. Mac took a deep breath, debating on whether to tell him the entire truth. It would be easy to say she'd been at the hospital all night with a friend. But sooner or later, the admiral was bound to learn about her relationship with Harm. Might as well be now.

"Sir, I won't be in today. I have plenty of leave time on the books and I—"

"What's wrong? You don't sound sick."

"No sir, I'm not. It's a friend. I've been at the hospital with him since shortly after midnight."

"And just who would that friend be, Colonel?"

His voice was slightly raised. Maybe he wouldn't take this well after all. "It's Command— It's Harm, sir."

"Rabb? What's going on?"

"He was shot in the chest. He's in ICU at George Washington University Hospital."

"What happened?"

"He was on a mission. Webb was involved." Mac filled him in on what she knew.

"How in the hell is it that Webb's missions end up being Snafus?"

"He wasn't supposed to be there. I don't know all the details, but Harm's partner said it was Webb's fault. Once Harm's okay, I plan to find out more."

"Damn that son of a bitch. Mac, you take care of Harm. Leave the fact-finding to me. What is his condition?"

"I was able to see him for a few minutes. He's sedated, but they plan to begin weaning him off the ventilator this morning."

"That's good to know. Do you have any pressing cases?"

"Just the Merritt article thirty-two. I'm sitting second chair to Bud. He can handle it alone."

"Very well. Take whatever time you need. Have you told anyone else?"

"You're the first person I called."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it and speak to Lt. Roberts about the case."

"Thank you, sir."

"Mac?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want to know what's going on. Let me know."

"I will, Admiral." Mac ended the call, then turned at the sound of someone calling her name.

"Hello, Sarah."

"What in the hell are you doing here, Webb?"

"Well, that's a nice greeting. I came here as a friend. Figured you could use one."

"Friend? You call yourself _a friend?_ It's your fault Harm is here in the first place."

"Sarah. Why would you think that?"

"Because I know you. Not only do you have a knack of screwing things up, but you also weren't supposed to be there."

"Hold on. That mission was classified. Who gave you that information? I sure as hell know it wasn't Rabb. He wasn't in any condition to talk when they took him out on a stretcher." Clay put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm here because I thought you could use a friend in case he doesn't pull through."

In a move that would make any marine proud, Mac whirled, grabbed Clay's arm, and twisted it behind his back. "You are a cold-hearted bastard, Webb. So help me if anything does happen to Harm, I'll—"

"Code blue, room 243."

"Oh, my God. That's Harm's room." Mac rushed toward the waiting area, leaving Clayton Webb staring at her retreating form.

**JAG Headquarters  
January 12, 2004  
0800 Local**

A J Chegwidden sighed and rubbed the top of his bald head. Things had gone to hell in a handbasket the past several months. It all started with Singer's murder and Harm's subsequent arrest. Mac going on that ill-fated mission with Webb.

As her commanding officer, he should have refused to let her go. If he had, Rabb would have never resigned, he wouldn't have gone to work for the CIA, and he wouldn't have been in his current predicament. So what if the SECNAV approved of the assignment. To hell with him. If A J thought Nelson was a thorn in his flesh, then Sheffield was a railroad spike.

More and more, the prospect of retirement looked good. But for now, he had work to do. And one of the first things was to make right a wrong. He pressed the intercom button. "Coates, get Director Kershaw on the line. Don't let them give you any excuses. I need to speak to him now."

"Yes, Sir."

"Is Lt. Roberts in yet?"

"I believe he is, Sir."

"Send him to my office right away."

"Yes, Sir."

A couple of minutes later, Coates put the call from Kershaw through.

"Chegwidden."

"What can I do for you, Admiral?"

"I hear Rabb was shot last night because of Clayton Webb's interference and ineptitude. I want to know what in the hell happened and what you're going to do about it."

If Kershaw was surprised at the admiral's knowledge of the incident, he didn't indicate it. "I don't have all the details yet. Rabb's partner was at the hospital all night. I'm expecting him any minute. Rest assured, I will deal with the situation."

"See that you do. Because if I see Webb, the least I'll do is break his jaw. He's used my people enough over the years, and I'm damn tired of it."

"I understand your frustration, but remember Rabb is no longer one of yours. He belongs to us now."

_Hopefully not for long. _

"Keep me informed of the situation." He ended the call. He had no right to ask that of Kershaw, but right now, he didn't care. If he hadn't given in to the SECNAV's insistence that he run a tighter ship, Harm would still be at JAG, where he belonged.

**George Washington University Hospital  
January 12, 2004  
0817 Local**

Mac paced the floor of the waiting room. Twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds had passed since the overhead announcement summoned a team to Harm's room. Twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds since she began to pray.

Harm _had _to make it. They had wasted eight years of their lives and now that they were together… Fate couldn't be that cruel.

A petite blond wearing a lab coat entered the waiting area. Except for being shorter, she reminded Mac a bit of Teresa Coulter. "Ms. Mackenzie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Marie Spitz, the intensivist caring for Mr. Rabb."

"How is he?"

"He gave us a bit of a scare, but he's going to be fine. He started to come out of sedation and began to fight the intubation tube. His heart rate accelerated, and his blood pressure spiked, but we have both under control."

"So he didn't… I heard the code announced."

The doctor shook her head. "One of the RT's pushed the button. We didn't need the full code team, but I'd rather have someone err on the side of caution."

"When can I see him?"

The doctor looked at her watch. "The next visiting hours aren't until ten, but in this case, I'll make an exception. I can tell he's very special to you. You can see him for about ten minutes."

"Thank you."

Mac followed the doctor through the double doors.

* * *

Clayton Webb listened to the conversation between Mac and the doctor from around the corner. Okay, he really didn't want Rabb dead, but as long as the man was alive, he had no chance with Mac. He should have known better than to believe Sarah would feel anything for him. She and Rabb had a connection. One that wasn't easily broken through time or distance.

It was clear he wasn't going to score any point with Mac today. Better follow his instinct and get out of town for a while. Kershaw wasn't going to be happy about what happened.

An idea formed in his head. He'd faked his death once. No reason why he couldn't do it again.

_A/N: Heart of Stone by The Rolling Stones _


	13. Without You

_A/N: And now we come to chapter thirteen. Good thing I'm not superstitious, or it could be bad luck for someone. Or will it? _

**Without You**

**George Washington University Hospital  
January 12, 2004  
0900 Local**

For the second time that morning, Mac entered Harm's hospital room. Maybe she was imagining things, but he didn't look as pale as he had earlier.

"I'll give some time alone," Dr. Spitz said.

Mac smiled at the physician. "Thank you."

Once she was alone, she walked to Harm's bedside and took his hand. "What are you trying to do, Flyboy? You gave everyone a scare—most of all, me. Do that again, and you won't need one of Webb's screwed up missions to kill you."

Her attempt at humor fell short, and she soon felt tears running down her cheeks. "Harm, I can't imagine what my life would be like if you weren't in it. I don't want to live without you."

Mac wasn't sure if Harm could hear her, but she continued to hold his hand. After a few minutes, a respiratory therapist and a nurse came into the room. "Sorry, but I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's okay. I understand." Turning back to Harm, she whispered. "I'm going now, but I'll be back soon. I love you."

She felt a slight squeeze of her hand.

**JAG Headquarters**  
**January 12, 20004**  
**1730 Local**

Admiral A J Chegwidden pressed the intercom button on his desk. "What is it, Coates?"

"Sir, Director Kershaw is on the line for you."

"Thanks, Coates. What can I do for you, Director?"

"I have some more information. Under most circumstances, I wouldn't share anything about a classified mission, but I owe you a few favors."

_Damn straight._ "What did you learn?"

"You were right about Clayton Webb. He botched the mission. Had it not been for his 'interference,' it's doubtful Rabb would have been shot. Not only that, but Rabb and Vance were also supposed to bring Sadik Fahd in alive. Because of Webb, Vance had to shoot him."

"What are you going to do about Webb?"

"As of today, he's fired. There's just one problem."

**George Washington University Hospital  
January 12, 2004  
1800 Local**

"Ms. Mackenzie?" Dr. Spitz walked into the waiting room.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to talk to someone?"

"Harm's awake?"

"He is. We still have him on oxygen, and he still has the chest tube. But if he continues to improve overnight, we'll move him to a regular room tomorrow."

"That's great."

"He's still a little groggy, so you can't stay more than fifteen minutes. After that, why don't you go home and get some rest?"

Mac hesitated. "I'm not sure. I want to be here in case he needs me."

"You can't be in the room tonight. We have your phone number in case something happens, but I don't anticipate anything. Once he's moved out of ICU, you can stay with him. Go home, get a good night's sleep, and you'll be fresh for in the morning."

"Thank you, doctor. I'll consider your suggestion."

A couple of minutes later, she approached Harm's room. He turned at the sound of her entering.

"Hi, Mac."

His voice was not much above a whisper, but he managed to smile. Not quite his patented flyboy grin. Right now, it was the most wonderful thing in the world to Mac.

"Hey, Flyboy. What's the idea of giving me such a scare? Do you remember what happened?

"Some. My chest hurts like hell."

"You were shot in the chest."

He grimaced, then tried to sit up. He reached for the oxygen tube. "Sadik. He's here in DC. Mac, you could be in danger. I've got to get out of here."

Mac looked at the monitor and noticed his heart rate started to increase. "Harm, relax. Sadik is dead. I'm okay. I'm safe."

"Thank God." Harm laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He remained that way for a while, two minutes and thirty-six seconds to be exact. Mac thought he had gone back to sleep.

She took his hand, then whispered. "I'll let you get some sleep now, but I'll be back in the morning." When she started to move away from the bed, Harm grasped her hand.

"Wait, Mac. Don't go yet. I need to tell you..." His raspy voice trailed away. "Hurts…to talk."

"You can tell me in the morning. I promise I'll be here bright and early."

He motioned to a cup sitting on the bedside table. "Ice chips."

Mac took the cup, put some ice on a spoon, and fed it to him. After he'd had a few sips, he nodded. "That's better."

She placed the cup back on the table, then bent to kiss him. "My time's almost up. I need to go now."

"I love you, Mac. I had to tell you that before you go."

She smiled. "I love you too, Harm."

**SICU Waiting Room  
January 12, 2004  
1840 Local**

When Mac walked out of the ICU, she was surprised to see none other than A J Chegwidden standing in the waiting room. He stood as he saw her approach.

"Admiral! I'm surprised to see you here. Is something wrong? I've had my cell phone turned off. I'm sorry, you probably needed me."

"Relax, Mac. How is Harm?"

"Much better. He's off the ventilator. They'll probably move him to a regular room tomorrow. Visiting hours aren't restricted there. I plan to be back here no later than 0700. Unless you need me at JAG."

"Mac, I already told you to take whatever time you need. I'm here as a friend. And there is also something I need to tell you. Why don't we sit down?" He nodded to an area where no one sat.

"Sure."

"I spoke with Director Kershaw. He confirmed what happened was Webb's fault."

Mac huffed. "Of course, he'll get away with another slap on the wrist. Or at the most assigned to a less than ideal location."

"Not this time. Kershaw fired him. Or at least he would have."

"What do you mean would have?"

"Webb was involved in a multi-vehicle pileup on I-95 south of Richmond. His car caught on fire… Mac, Clayton Webb is dead."

* * *

_A/N: Without You by Harry Nilsson _


	14. Questions 67 & 68

_A/N: I know – weird name for a chapter but remember the mistletoe kiss in "All Ye Faithful" where Mac said awkward moment 310? So why not pull a number (or a song) out of the air? This is a bit of a filler chapter._

**George Washington University Hospital**  
**January 16, 2004  
1730 Local**

In the three days since the doctor moved Harm from ICU, Mac stayed at the hospital constantly. After two nights of sleeping in a chair, one of the nurses arranged to have a cot moved into the room.

Harm finally convinced her to go home for a few hours. She consented when Director Kershaw stopped by for a visit in the early afternoon.

It wasn't that Harm didn't appreciate her being here—quite the opposite. If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't leave her side. He glanced at the clock. Probably wouldn't be much longer before Mac returned. The thought of seeing her again brought a smile to his face. Now that they had found one another, it was increasingly difficult for them to be apart.

Someone tapped on the door. He wasn't expecting visitors, but Mac wouldn't knock.

"Come in." He was surprised to see none other than A J Chegwidden.

"Admiral." Harm momentarily forgot the time when the former SEAL told him he was no longer _his_ admiral. But from force of habit, he tried to sit a little straighter in the bed.

"At ease, son. How are you doing?"

This wasn't what he expected from the man who once told him to wrestle alligators. While it was true, he'd offered Harm his job back a few months ago, he figured it was because he was desperate for lawyers.

What was with the "son" comment? It grated on Harm's nerves a bit, but then he remembered how Chegwidden had graciously given Mac the entire week off. He was still her CO, so it would be in her best interest to treat the man with a degree of respect.

"Better. Got the chest tube out yesterday. If all goes well, the doctors will release me early next week."

"Good to know. Have they given you an estimated recovery time?"

"Not sure. I won't be able to go out in the field for a while, but at least I won't be cooped up in a hospital room."

"Hospitals are never fun." Chegwidden pulled a chair next to the bed, then sat down. A palpable silence filled the air.

Harm wasn't sure why he'd had come. It wasn't for idle chit chat. A J never operated that way.

"You enjoy working for the CIA?"

Harm figured he might as well be honest. "It's a job. Pays the bills."

"But you're not satisfied."

"I'm able to fly. That counts for something."

"I'm not going to beat around the bush. I came here to offer you your old job back."

Harm started to speak, but A J held up his hand to stop him. "I know you turned me down a couple of months ago, and I have a sneaking suspicion as to the reason. But I feel it's time we clear the air."

"Fair enough."

"It angered me when you left to go after Mac. Not so much that you cared enough to go, but for the fact that you were willing to disobey orders. You resigned your commission and went blazing into the sunset to save the girl. Didn't have a plan and little information to go on."

"I would do it again if necessary."

"I know that. In retrospect, I should have given you leave and not asked any questions. You certainly didn't deserve the tongue lashing I gave you when you returned. It is true that you often act on emotion."

"Can't argue with you there."

"That's not always a bad thing. So, what do you say? The offer still stands. Come back to JAG, and we'll start fresh."

Harm hesitated. Being back at JAG meant he wouldn't be out of town as often. But now that he and Mac were involved, there would be complications. "I need some time to think it over."

"I expected that. Take the weekend and give me your answer Monday. New ring?" He nodded toward Harm's right hand.

He shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Chegwidden was the one who first noticed that damned ring Mic placed on Mac's right hand back in Australia. He was non-committal in his response. "I've had it a couple of weeks."

"Mac has the same ring."

Harm's eyes widened. So much for keeping their relationship a secret. The man was sometimes too observant. "Yes, she does."

"Then I assume you finally figured out what you needed to do to keep her."

"That would be an accurate assumption."

"That would be correct."

"You're concerned about the chain of command issues."

"Yes."

"Let me deal with that. I don't see any problems. Should the two of you decide to make things permanent, we'll revisit the situation."

The door opened, and Mac entered. "Harm, I—" She automatically came to attention. "Admiral! Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

"At ease, Mac. I was just leaving. Harm, look forward to hearing from you."

"Yes, sir."

The admiral rose, then walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned back. "Mac, Harm?"

"Yes sir?" They asked in unison.

"About damn time."

* * *

Mac waited until Chegwidden left before speaking. "What was that all about?"

"He offered me my old job back. Said we'd start fresh."

"From what he said, I gather you didn't turn him down."

"I didn't say yes either. Not until I talk to you first."

"You know there's nothing I'd like better than to have you back at JAG, but now with us…"

"He said not to worry about that. He'll deal with it."

"You told him?"

"He figured it out. Saw my ring. He'd noticed yours and put two and two together."

"So, are you thinking about coming back?"

"Honestly, I've thought about it for the past few months."

"But you turned him down after Carolyn's trial."

"There was a reason then. I don't have to worry about that now."

Mac walked to the window to look out on the street below. "You didn't want to come back because of me. I know I treated you like dirt in Paraguay."

"That's not it, Mac. Yes, it was because of you, but not the way you think. I stayed in the CIA so that I could protect you."

Mac frowned. "From Sadik?"

"Yes. I didn't trust Webb not to screw up the mission. Kershaw didn't either. Now that Sadik is dead, it's not so important that I stay with the agency."

"First, you resign your commission because of me, then you turn down an offer to come back to JAG. If I hadn't gone to Paraguay in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"If I'd told you my true feelings years ago."

"If I hadn't run off to the Guadalcanal."

Harm smiled. "We're quite a pair, aren't we? Why did it take us so long to admit our feelings for one another?"

"That's the million-dollar question. The important thing is we're together now."

* * *

_A/N: Questions 67 & 68 by Chicago_


	15. The Right Thing To Do

_A/N: It's been a while since I posted an update to this story, but life has been busy. Of late, I've noticed several authors apologizing for not updating their stories in a timely manner. My thoughts are this. We do this because we love to write. We aren't making money and don't have a publisher's deadlines. We all have a life outside of writing. Many of us work full time, so we update when and if we can. _

_If that upsets some readers, I suggest not reading a story until it's marked complete. I don't like leaving stories unfinished, and I will endeavor to complete all of mine. Might not be as fast as some like, but it is what it is._

_Having said that, let's get back to Harm and Mac. The final chapters will cover a period of several months, so here we go._

**The Right Thing to Do**

**Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment  
February 22, 2004  
2100 Local**

Mac collapsed on Harm's chest as they brought their breathing under control. Since doctors had given Harm the all clear to engage in "extra-curricular activities" the two lovers had taken every opportunity to make up for the lost time when Harm was recovering from the gunshot wound.

"Wow, Marine. You wore me out."

"Me. Wore you out? More like the other way around."

Mac moved to snuggle by his side. She idly drew circles on his chest. His arm curled passively around her. They lay in silence for several minutes.

Tomorrow was a big day for Harm. He was going back to work—not for the CIA but had been reinstated at JAG. Mac wasn't sure how Chegwidden did it, probably called in a few favors, but Harm's time spent in the CIA was considered as TAD and deemed "classified."

Maybe he felt guilty about how he'd reacted upon their return from Paraguay. Whatever the case, neither of them wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth. The admiral also promised their change in relationship status wouldn't have any bearing on their job and assignments. "If the two of you make things more permanent, we'll revisit the situation," he had said.

"Do you have everything ready for in the morning?" Mac asked.

"My uniform is in your closet. Already have the ribbons on the jacket. I'm good."

Mac brushed a kiss on Harm's cheek. Traces of a five o'clock shadow were there but he shaved his beard a few days ago and had gotten the military regulation hair cut. While she was delighted that he would be back at JAG and was no longer with the CIA, she'd miss the "rugged" look.

"So, how do you want to handle things, Harm? Should we arrive together or separate? Don't want to give the admiral any reason to separate us. And if more people find out…"

"It'll be okay. It's not like Singer is around to cause trouble."

Mac stiffened at the name. Singer's murder, and Harm's subsequent arrest, was the beginning of their downfall. If she'd defied orders and visited him in the brig or refused the assignment to Paraguay, then Harm wouldn't have had to resign. He wouldn't have been on a mission to find Sadik, and wouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire due to Webb's ineptitude. Wouldn't have spent time in a hospital on death's door. Tear slipped down her face and Harm wiped them away.

"What's wrong babe?"

"Just thinking of all that's happened during the last few months since Singer's death. It's all my fault."

"Stop saying that. If I'd let you in. Confided in you about my suspicions about Sergei being the father of her child, then we wouldn't have drifted apart. If I'd had the guts to say how I felt about you before you left with Webb. There are a lot of 'what ifs.' We can't worry about them. What's important is that we're together now. And I'm not going to let anything or anyone come between us."

"So, we show up together?"

"Absolutely. We don't have to advertise our relationship for the world to see, and we can maintain a proper decorum in the office." He flashed his flyboy grin. "Look at it this way, there may be fewer fights these days."

**JAG Headquarters  
February 27, 2004  
1800 Local**

Harm's first week back at JAG was relatively uneventful. The admiral assigned him as defense council in an Article 32 hearing for a marine major accused of fraternization. Sturgis was prosecutor, and as usual, acted like a hard ass. He made several ambiguous comments to Harm outside the courtroom regarding improper relationships. Asked questions about how Mac was adjusting to Harm being back in the Navy.

Harm couldn't help but believe there was more to Sturgis's comments than idle curiosity. While he and Mac hadn't exactly hidden their relationship, they didn't broadcast it either. Both still wore their matching rings (on the right hand) so it wouldn't be difficult for anyone to put two and two together.

But some inner instinct told Harm it was best not to tell his old friend that he and Mac were practically living together.

Sturgis wasn't happy over the fact Admiral Morris found insufficient evidence to bring the fraternization case to full court martial. He left the courtroom and went straight to his office (Harm's old office) without so much as a word. The man hadn't been the same since Bud did a poor job as representing him in the Jeremy Duncan case.

Fortunately for Harm, Sturgis had already left by the time he tapped on Mac's door. "Ready to go, Marine?"

She looked up and smiled. "Thought you'd never ask. What's the deal with Sturgis? He's acting like he has a stick up his six this week."

"You noticed it, too. Thought it was just me."

"No, he definitely isn't happy about something." She shrugged. "Who knows? Not that I care as long as he leaves me out of his little tirades. He practically bit Harriet's head off because she didn't have some files on his desk as soon as he wanted them."

"Well, he's still sore at Bud, but that's no reason to take it out on Harriet."

"I agree. Let's forget Sturgis. Your place or mine tonight?"

"Do you have clothes at mine? Not that you'll need many."

"Got plans for the weekend, Commander, Colonel?"

Harm didn't realize his CO was standing behind him. Chegwidden had a slight smirk on his face. Mac's had turned beat red.

"Um, Mac and I were just discussing it."

"So I heard."

It was Harm's turn to blush.

"Carry on. And enjoy the weekend." Chegwidden strolled away.

"Sorry, Mac. I didn't know he was there."

"Well," she smiled impishly, "he did tell us to carry on."

"He did, didn't he? Speaking of living arrangements, what do you think about the two of us getting an apartment together?"

Mac's eyes grew wide. "You mean it?"

"Why not? We're together every night. Doesn't make sense to keep spending money on two places. How about we start looking for something this weekend?"

"I like the sound of that."

**North of Union Station  
1900 Local**

Harm and Mac entered his loft. "I'll call for pizza if you want to change first," he said.

"Just make sure you get half meat lovers." Mac called over his shoulder as she stepped up to the bedroom. She quickly removed her uniform, hung it in Harm's closet, then slipped on a pair of sweats. Smiling, she grabbed one of his "Go Navy" t-shirts to wear. She had plenty of her own things here, but she liked wearing his clothes.

She looked to see that Harm was still on the phone. Shrugging, she took off her bra, then pulled the shirt over her head. Harm liked her braless. Besides, it would save time later. If she had her way, neither of them would be wearing clothes long.

Mac padded down the steps to the kitchen. Opened the fridge for a bottle of water. A lot had changed since she first visited here years ago and found Harm's rather unconventional method of keeping things cool.

Harm slipped up behind her and pulled her against the hard planes of his body. As expected, his hands found their way under the shirt to cup her breasts as he nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

"What else do you not have on?" His voice had taken on that bedroom timber.

Mac laughed, then slipped out of his arms. As much as she wanted to make love with him, first things first.

"You'll just have to find out later, Flyboy."

"Later? What's wrong with now?"

"First of all, you just ordered pizza. I don't want to be interrupted by a delivery person. Second, I'm hungry and I have a feeling we're going to need all our energy tonight."

"Is that a promise?"

"Count on it. Go change."

"Yes, Ma'am." He gave her a mock salute, then sprinted upstairs to the bedroom.

When Harm's cell phone rang, he called out to Mac. "Grab that, will you?"

"Sure." Turning to the phone, she said. "Colonel Mackenzie."

"Colonel. I thought I was calling the commander's phone," Chegwidden said.

"You are sir. Harm is busy and asked me to answer."

"Very well. Hope neither of you made too many plans for the weekend. I need you both on a plane to the Netherlands in the morning to defend the SECNAV against charges of war crimes. He personally asked for the two of you."

* * *

_A/N: The Right Thing to Do by Carly Simon_


	16. Every Breath You Make

_A/N: The song, "Every Breath You Take," just screams stalker to me. Who is watching Mac? And will power go to Sturgis's sanctimonious head?_

**Every Breath You Take**

**Officer's Club, US Naval Academy  
May 21, 2004  
2000 Local**

Mac looked at the handsome man seated next to her and smiled. She couldn't help but recall the first time she saw him in his mess dress uniform. It was at the NATO Ball, and it was the first time they had danced together.

Life seemed so innocent then. That night they'd been caught up in one of Clayton Webb's "missions." At the time, he claimed to be with the State Department and, as usual, he had ulterior motives for involving the two of them.

Every time Clayton Webb was involved, trouble followed. But neither she nor Harm would have to worry about the spook any longer. Not since his charred remains were pulled from the wreckage of his Porsche months earlier.

Mac heard there had been a small funeral. She didn't attend because Harm was still recovering in the hospital. Damn Webb. It was his fault Harm was there in the first place. As cold-hearted as it sounded, Mac couldn't muster up an ounce of sorrow over his death.

Why was she even thinking about the spook tonight? That part of her life was closed. And tonight, another chapter would close. The JAG gang was here to celebrate Admiral Chegwidden's retirement.

She reached beneath the table to inconspicuously take Harm's hand as the admiral approached the podium. He smiled as their fingers entwined.

Chegwidden cleared his throat. "I'm aware of all the speculation regarding my retirement. Many theories, all of them very interesting. All of them correct."

There was a smattering of laughter. No one had ever been able to get anything past their CO.

"I guess it was, uh, a confluence of many things that led to my decision. But let me be clear.  
I'm not leaving anything. I'm completing one experience and starting another. Specifically, this summer, my daughter and I will visit every Major League baseball park in the nation. We'll end up in, uh, Boston in October, where I'm hoping historic things will happen. And everything after that is pretty much up in the air.

"But know this. I will take each and every one of you with me wherever I go. And trust me when I say that I'm a better man for having done my service in your company."

Applause filled the room. As the band began to play, Harm stood. "May I have this dance, Colonel?"

"Of course," she said.

Mac smiled as they danced, remembering their dance at the NATO Ball.

_ I know this is like dancing with your sister, but you could just pretend it's fun?_

_Mac, I don't think of you as a sister._

_You don't?_

_No, I don't._

"What are you smiling about?" Harm asked.

"Thinking about our first dance together. The night you told me you didn't think of me as a sister. I didn't believe it."

"Well, Mac, I was a little focused on our mission that night."

"That you were, Flyboy."

"But I sure don't think of you as a sister now."

The words he whispered in her ear caused her to blush. Why she'd ever thought of the man as a prude was beyond her.

As Harm twirled her on the dance floor, she noticed Sturgis Turner watching their every move. Over the past couple of months, he'd asked subtle questions, none of which Mac had answered. Where she once thought of him as a friend, now she wasn't so sure. And judging from the look she saw in his eyes tonight she'd been right not to confide anything to him.

**JAG Headquarters  
June 7, 2004  
0800 Local**

"Rabb."

Jennifer Coates' voice came over the phone. "Commander Turner wants to see you right away, sir."

Harm rolled his eyes. He didn't know what the hell the SECNAV was thinking when he'd made Turner acting JAG. The past two weeks he'd had the entire office doing scut work.

Last week he'd given them two hours to provide him with the '05 budget numbers. Then he divided the JAG instructions into four sections and had each attorney review one part in preparation of a meeting the following day to discuss updates and cancellations.

Whatever the hell that meant.

Harm had, in his usual fashion, questioned the necessity. "This is make work, Sturgis. What about all the open cases?"

"We work on those as well. Please allocate your time wisely."

"Are you still there, sir?" Jennifer asked.

"Yeah, Coates. Tell him I'm on the way." Harm left his office, then crossed the bullpen. Even though Sturgis had moved into the admiral's old space, the place Harm once occupied sat vacant. Meanwhile, he was stuck in a room not much larger than a janitor's closet. The storage room was bigger.

But far be it from the high and mighty Sturgis Turner to offer Harm his old place back. And he wasn't about to ask.

"He said to go right in," Jennifer said.

Harm didn't bother to knock. "You wanted to see me?"

Sturgis's beady eyes looked Harm up and down. "Have a seat. I got word this morning of an incident on the Seahawk. The pilot of an F18 Hornet crashed into the sea shortly after takeoff."

"Any idea as to the cause."

"Initial reports by the onboard JAG indicate pilot error, but Captain Johnson isn't buying it. He wants a complete and thorough investigation."

"Are you saying he doesn't trust the investigator?"

"I'm saying he wants a _thorough_ investigation, up to and including the JAG. I trust you'll be fair and unbiased."

"Of course. Am I to assume Colonel Mackenzie will not be going along? The admiral usually sent both of us for cases such as this."

"If you don't think you're capable of handling it, I can send someone else."

"I'm more than capable, Sturgis. I just thought—"

"I'm not the admiral. Besides, I don't think its in the best interest of this office to send you and Mac anywhere together."

Harm frowned. "And why is that?"

"Because if the two of you are caught in, let's say, a compromising situation, it'll be my ass on the line as well as yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not stupid, Harm. I know the two of you are living in sin."

"What the hell?"

"You live together. You aren't married. It's as simple as that. Can't have both of you on a carrier together. For that matter, anywhere on assignment. Chegwidden may have put up with it, but I won't."

"Well, when did you get to be so self-righteous? You may be a preacher's kid, but I know for a fact you haven't always walked on water."

"That's beside the point. I'm your commanding officer, and I expect you to do as I say. You've got two hours to be at Andrews. I suggest you aren't late. Dismissed."

**JAG Headquarters  
June 11, 2004  
2000 Local**

"You're working late tonight, Colonel." Bud Roberts' voice was cheerful.

"As are you, Bud."

"Figured I'd get as much off my desk as possible so that I could enjoy a weekend with my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing. Not that I have plans."

"When do you expect the commander to come home?" Bud didn't often speak of Mac and Harm's relationship, especially in the office. But no one else was around.

"Not for another week or so. He wrapped up his investigation but will stay on board The Seahawk for the Article 32 hearing."

"Maybe it won't take too long. Are you almost finished here? We can walk out together."

Mac shook her head. "I still have a couple of more cases to review. Go ahead, Bud. I'll see you on Monday."

An hour later, Mac left the building alone. As she walked to her car, a chill enveloped her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was the same feeling she had when Dalton was trying to pursue their relationship. When Coster was stalking her.

She hurried to unlock her 'Vette, then got inside. Except for the guards, no one else was around. But the feeling was so eerie, she half expected to see Dalton in her rearview mirror. Ridiculous. He was dead, and Coster was still in prison. Nonetheless, she was relieved to be inside her locked car.

**Harm and Mac's Apartment  
June 14, 2004  
1800 Local**

Mac hurried inside the apartment building. The past few days, she hadn't been able to shake the feeling someone was watching her. Harm had called several times, but she didn't say anything. He didn't need to hear about her paranoia.

He needed to focus on the case. Sturgis was a hardass about everything. Mac became convinced he _wanted_ Harm to make a mistake so that he could take disciplinary action. How she'd ever thought of the man as a friend was beyond her. Power had undoubtedly gone to his head. Their only hope was that a new JAG would soon be appointed.

When she reached the apartment door, she placed the key in the lock, then froze at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She looked up to see the face of the last person she'd expected to see.

"Hello, Sarah."

* * *

_A/N: Every Breath You Take by The Police_


	17. She's Gone

_A/N: The muse took me on a longer than expected journey. Yes, Mac is "gone." How will Harm react? And who has her? (There's a clue in this chapter.) I promise to reveal the culprit in the next installment. _

**She's Gone**

**JAG Headquarters  
June 15, 2004  
0850 Local**

Lt. Cdr. Bud Roberts wasn't easily shaken these days. He'd been through too much in the past couple of years—losing his leg, his family's reaction, his resentment over the situation, learning how to control his anger. If he'd profited anything from the experience, it was to keep calm and take most things in stride.

But when Colonel Mackenzie was two hours late for their meeting, he felt ill at ease. It wasn't like her. In the eight years he'd worked with her, she'd always been punctual. Most of the time, early. Her uncanny ability to tell time down to the minute without consulting a clock had always fascinated him.

Bud called both her home and cell phone and got no answer. There was nothing else he could do now. It was time for staff meeting, and he didn't want to face the wrath of one Sturgis Turner.

He hurried to the conference room. Coates and Sturgis were already there along with a couple of new junior attorneys, Lt. JG Darla Hanson, and Lt. Daryl Tucker.

"Something delay you, Commander Roberts?" Sturgis frowned.

"No, sir. According to my watch, I'm two minutes early." A glance at the clock confirmed his statement.

"Where is Col. Mackenzie?"

"I don't know. She and I were supposed to meet early this morning to discuss the Hudson court-martial, but she never showed up. I haven't been able to reach her at her home or on her cell phone. It's not like her to be late. I'm a little concerned."

"Probably too much of Rabb's influence," Sturgis muttered. He looked around the table. "Let's get on with this. We can't delay because of an inept officer."

Bud met Jennifer Coates' eyes. He wanted to protest. Jennifer opened her mouth, no doubt to do just that, but Bud shot her a warning look. He had no doubt Sturgis Turner would charge her, or anyone else for that matter, with insubordination in a heartbeat.

The staff meeting lasted way too long. For someone so keen on being efficient, Sturgis wasted a lot of valuable time—his and everyone else's. He'd assigned them more mundane and unnecessary work. Bud was convinced the man would have them rewriting the UCMJ if he could get by with it.

After the meeting ending, Bud rushed to Col. Mackenzie's office, hoping she would be there. But the room was dark, and there were no signs she'd been there since Friday. He went into his own office, then tried both her home and cell phone. No answer. Something was definitely wrong.

**Unknown Location  
June 15, 2004  
1100 Local**

Mac looked out the window to the beach below. Under any other circumstances, it would be a beautiful place to visit. Perfect for a weekend getaway.

Her thoughts drifted to another beach. Another time. She only wanted to make Harm jealous—to make him admit how he really felt. Instead, he stood there, trying to determine if she was really topless beneath that magazine.

Later, on the ferry, when she'd come on to him, he backed away. And she went straight into the arms of another man. The first of many mistakes she'd made.

If only she hadn't turned to Mic or accepted his ring. If only she hadn't run away to the Guadalcanal, then pushed Harm away. If only she hadn't taken the mission to Paraguay and pushed him away yet again, this wouldn't have happened.

But now, instead of enjoying time with the man she loved, she was a prisoner in this place. She'd already tried the windows. They were bolted shut. At any rate, he'd told her the house had a state of the art alarm system, so any attempt at escape would be useless.

How long did her captor intend to keep her locked up? Had he lost his mind? Surely, he didn't believe he could _make_ her love him. Mac cringed as she remembered how he'd held the gun on her, forcing her to write the note.

_Dear Harm:_

_I know this will come as a shock to you, but I can't go on this way—pretending what I feel for you is love. I'm leaving Washington and the Marine Corps. I know it seems spontaneous, but I've given it a lot of thought. I can't go on this way. I've found someone who makes me happy. Turns out, he's always had a thing for me._

_I've known for years how I felt about him. I fought against it, but now I can no longer deny he's the man of my dreams. I feel like I've been waiting outside a gate. Now the way is no longer barred for me. I can enter through and into my new life. _

_I'm going away with him. I know you won't understand but please don't try to find me. It's better that we end it this way._

_Always,_

_Mac_

After she finished the note, he'd forced her to remove the ring and leave it with the envelope. She hadn't taken it off since Harm put it there months ago.

Did he call last night? Wonder why she didn't answer? Would he reach out to Bud or someone at JAG? How would he react when he saw the note? Would he read her cryptic message and figure out who had her and where she was?

It had been a long time since Sarah Mackenzie had prayed, but she cried out to God to help Harm see the truth.

They had wasted so many years, and now they were together. Were the fates so cruel as to separate them forever? One thing she knew. She wouldn't trade the last few months for anything in the world.

Mac heard the key turning in the lock. He was coming in.

"Hello, Sarah."

When she didn't answer, he thrust a phone in her hand. "You need to call JAG. Tell them you're sick and won't be in for a few days. Don't try anything. I don't want to use a gun, but I will if necessary."

"And what am I supposed to say about not calling in this morning?"

"You'll think of something."

Mac took the phone. With shaky fingers, she pressed the keys for the familiar number.

"JAG headquarters, Petty Officer Coats speaking."

"Jennifer, it's Colonel Mackenzie. I need to speak to Commander Turner, please."

"Colonel Mackenzie. Are you all right? We were worried about you."

"I'm fine, Jennifer. Just let me speak to Sturgis."

"Right away, Ma'am."

Sturgis didn't pull any punches when he answered. "What is going on, Mac? You're over three hours late, and you just now call in? How am I supposed to run an office if my officers don't report in?"

"I'm sorry. I got really sick last night, and the medicine I took made me groggy. I just woke up. I'm afraid I won't be in for a few days."

Sturgis's voice softened. "That doesn't sound like you, Mac. Anything you need?"

"No. I'll be okay in a few days."

"Does Harm know?"

"He'll figure it out when he gets home. Goodbye, Sturgis."

**JAG Headquarters  
June 15, 2004  
1700 Local**

Harm stepped off the elevator, then started toward the bullpen. He'd never been so glad to complete an investigation and get back to headquarters—even if it meant having to deal with Sturgis Turner.

Harm supposed he should have called Mac. The last time they talked on Sunday, he thought he'd be on the Seahawk at least another week. But last night, a key witness came forward, exonerating the pilot of any wrongdoing. Harm was relieved to know the pilot wasn't at fault. Yes, maybe he favorited aviators, but wrapping up the investigation meant he would soon be home to Mac.

He worked through the night, finishing his report, then took the morning COD. He drove straight from Andrews, hoping to catch Mac before she left for home. But when he crossed the bullpen, he was surprised to see her office was dark.

"Welcome home, Commander." Bud's greeting was cheerful. "Didn't expect to see you today."

"Finished early. Hope to catch Mac before she left, but I see I'm a little late."

Bud frowned. "You haven't talked to her?"

"Not since Sunday. Why?"

"She called in sick. Said she be out a few days."

Harm drew his brows together. Mac never got sick. "Mac is sick? What's wrong?"

"She didn't say. It was almost 1100 when she called in. Commander Turner wasn't happy."

Harm pulled out his cell phone to dial their home number. The answering machine picked up, so he tried Mac's cell. No answer.

He took the report from his briefcase. "Give this to Sturgis, will you Bud? I need to check on Mac."

Bud took the file. "Sure, sir. If there's anything Harriet and I can do—"

Harm was halfway to the elevator when Sturgis called out. "Hold up, Harm. I need to talk to you about your investigation."

"It'll have to wait, Sturgis. I need to get home." He didn't wait for Sturgis to reply.

* * *

Harm took the stairs two at a time. He'd broken every speed limit and ran a few red lights but to get here. On the drive from headquarters, he tried calling Mac several times but got no answer.

Something was wrong. He knew it in his gut.

He unlocked the door. The apartment was dark.

"Mac, honey. I'm home."

No answer.

"Mac?"

He rushed into their bedroom. She wasn't there. The bed hadn't been slept in. At least not today. Thinking she might be in the shower, he tried the bathroom. No sign of her.

_Where is she?_

Maybe she was sick enough to go to the hospital. But why hadn't she called someone? He went back to the living room to check the answering machine for messages. That's when he saw the note. Her ring was lying beside it.

He tore open the envelope.

Mac was gone? No, it couldn't be. She wouldn't do something like this. Rushing to the closet, he checked to see if her clothes were there. Nothing seemed out of place. Her lingerie was still in the dresser drawers. Nothing was missing. Just Mac.

He sunk down on the bed. Someone had taken her against her will. Who and why?

_I'll find you, Ninja Girl. And when I do, there will be hell to pay for whoever took you._

* * *

_A/N: She's Gone by Hall and Oates_


	18. Love Will Find a Way

_A/N: Eighteen chapters. We are officially "Beyond Seventeen," but there's still more to go. I borrowed a couple of things from the Season Ten opener and twisted it to fit this story. Oh, and I allowed Sturgis to have little conscience in this chapter. _

**Love Will Find a Way**

**Harm and Mac's Apartment  
June 16, 2004  
0600 Local**

Harm had a restless night. Every waking thought was filled with Mac. First, he walked the floor, trying to figure out her note, convinced it wasn't a goodbye but a hidden message. Her kidnapper forced her to write it. He was sure of it. Mac had been wise enough to leave clues.

But what were they? What did she mean about standing outside a gate and just now being able to enter?

He considered calling the police, but they would laugh at him. Say he was acting the part of the jilted lover. He needed to think this thing through. Have a plan. Not go off half-cocked like he did with the Paraguay situation.

Harm finally went to bed around midnight, but he tossed and turned. Clutched her pillow and inhaled the wonderful scent that was Sarah Mackenzie. The scant amount of time he did sleep, he dreamed Mac was calling out to him for help.

He was awake before 0500. Ironically Mac would have teased him about it had she been here. Harm had to find her.

_I always know where you are._

Yeah right. Mac found him in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Would he be as lucky?

_Turns out he's always had a thing for me._

She'd said something similar before. But where and when?

_Paraguay. She was talking about Clayton Webb._

Harm rushed to shower and shave, then dressed in his summer whites. He didn't _want _to go into the office, but he _had_ to. Might have to grovel a bit to Sturgis, but he'd do whatever it took to find Mac.

**JAG Headquarters  
June 16, 2004  
0730 Local**

Sturgis was already in the office by the time Harm arrived. So much for getting here early. He put his cover and briefcase on his desk, took Mac's note, then went in search of the former submariner. Sturgis's door was open, but Harm knocked anyway.

"Got a minute?"

"Glad you're here early. I need to discuss the Seahawk investigation with you."

"Didn't Bud give you my report?"

"He did. I still have a few questions."

"Sturgis, I don't have—" Harm stopped himself from telling his temporary CO what he could do with the report. "Okay, I'll answer your questions, but first I need to discuss something important with you."

"What's that?"

"Mac is missing."

"What are you talking about? She called in yesterday to say she was sick."

"Yeah. Bud told me. You didn't think there was anything odd about her waiting until mid-day to call?"

"It was unusual for Mac, but she claimed the medicine she took made her sleep."

"She's not home. She left this." He tossed the piece of paper across the desk.

Sturgis frowned as he read the note. "This doesn't seem like Mac. She wouldn't just up and leave. Are the two of you having problems?"

His words irritated Harm. "No, we're not having problems."

"Have you notified the police?"

"Wouldn't do any good right now. They'd think she left of her own free will."

"You have a point. Any ideas about who may have taken her?"

Harm nodded. "I know exactly who did. Clayton Webb."

"Clayton Webb? Can't be. He died in a car crash, remember?

"Sturgis, it wouldn't be the first time Webb faked his death. Mac's note. The line about him always having a thing for her. She said the same thing in Paraguay. She was trying to tell me who took her."

"You're sure about this?"

"Positive."

"So, what do you have in mind?"

"I need a few days to look for her."

"Harm, you just got reinstated. Don't you think this might look bad for your career?"

"I have leave time on the books. Beside,s I don't give a damn about my career or for that matter my life if Mac isn't a part of it."

"You're serious, aren't you?

Harm nodded.

Sturgis was silent for a moment. "Okay, Harm. Take the rest of the week. We can manage here."

"Thanks, Sturgis."

"Mind if I keep a copy of the note? I won't show it to everyone, but Bud or Coates might pick up on something."

"Good idea. Thanks." Harm stood to leave.

"Just make sure you have a plan."

"I already do."

**Porter Webb's Residence  
June 16, 2004  
1000 Local**

Harm stood in the foyer of the Webb mansion. He'd been here once before. Ironically, another time when Clay faked his death.

"Mrs. Webb will be with you shortly," the maid said.

A few minutes later, Harm heard the click of heels on the hardwood floor.

"Commander Rabb. This is a surprise. What brings you here today?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Webb. I need to talk to you about Clay."

"Ah, yes. I understand you were in the hospital when Clayton was killed. I trust you made a full recovery."

"I did, thank you."

She motioned to the living room. "Let's sit down."

Harm waited until she was seated before taking a seat on the sofa. He needed to approach the situation delicately, but he also needed to know the truth. "Mrs. Webb, I understand the crash that killed your son caused several cars to catch on fire. Clay's being one of them."

Porter Webb lowered her eyes. "Yes, that is true. I'm afraid Clay's body was burned beyond recognition."

"That must have been hard for you. I'm sorry to ask, but is there any chance the body wasn't Clay's?"

"Of course it was him. What is your point?"

"I have reason to believe he is still alive."

"Commander, I can assure you my son is dead. There _are_ other means of identification. Dental records confirmed Clayton was the person in the crash." Her gaze drifted toward an urn on the fireplace mantel. "Before you ask about exhuming a body, I had his remains cremated. The ashes are all I have left."

"I'm sorry. I won't take any more of your time. Thank you for seeing me." Harm rose to leave.

"You don't have children, do you commander."

"No ma'am, I don't."

"A parent knows these things. I don't need proof my son is dead. If you ever have children, I hope you never have to go through what I have."

"I understand, ma'am. I'll see my way out."

Harm walked slowly to his car. Porter Webb was hiding something. He'd bet his life on it.

**JAG Headquarters  
June 16, 2004  
1300 Local**

When Jennifer Coates saw the copy of Mac's note, she knew exactly what the Colonel was trying to say. She was telling someone her whereabouts. Daphne du Maurier's _Rebecca_ was had been her favorite childhood book.

When Commander Turner told her of Commander Rabb's suspicion about Clayton Webb, she did some digging and came up with some very interesting information.

Jen knocked on the door to Sturgis's office.

"Enter."

"Sir, did Commander Rabb say he would call in?"

"No, why?"

"I have some information that I believe he'll find helpful." She told him her theory.

"You could be right. Let's give him a call." Sturgis dialed Harm's number, then put the phone on speaker.

"Rabb."

"Harm. Petty Officer Coates has some information for you."

"What's that?"

"Well, sir, it's about a book."

"A book? Sorry, Jen, but if this doesn't have anything to do with Mac, I don't have time now."

"It has everything to do with her. Let me tell you the opening line. 'Last night, I dreamed I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while, I could not enter, for the way was barred to me.' Don't you see, Colonel Mackenzie was trying to tell you where she was being taken."

"It still doesn't give us much of a clue. I don't know of any nearby places called Manderley."

"Manderley is a house. A large secluded estate. A person could hide forever there and never be found. When Commander Turner told me you suspected Mr. Webb, I searched for real estate records that might be linked to him. I found an estate registered to an Elliott Forbes Porter Trust. He was Clayton Webb's great-grandfather on his mother's side."

"Go on."

"The property has been in the family for generations. It's on the eastern shore. Not a long drive from DC. And sir, the house's name is Manderley."

"Good work, Jen. You may have just saved Mac's life."

* * *

Harm ended the call, then pressed the speed dial for a familiar number. "I know where she is," he said when the person answered. "Ready to go?"

"Damn straight."

"I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

"I'll be waiting." The line clicked dead.

_Hang in there, Mac. I'm coming for you._

**Manderley  
June 16, 2004  
1300 Local**

Except for the times he brought food, Clay had left Mac locked in the second-floor room. For someone who claimed to love her, he wasn't acting like it. She questioned him when he brought her lunch.

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

"As long as it takes to make you forget Harmon Rabb."

Mac had wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. Clayton Webb's haughty attitude had always rubbed her the wrong way.

"You deserve someone better than him. Sarah, you know Harm will leave you someday. You're just another one of his obsessions. Once he gets tired of you, he'll move on."

Mac couldn't deny that Harm had many obsessions in the past, but she refused to believe she was one of them. What they had shared the past few months was real. Like the pattern in their rings, it was for eternity.

Tears formed in her eyes at the thought of Webb forcing her to leave the ring behind. What would Harm think?

"I can give you all the things a woman wants. This house. The finest clothes and jewelry. I'm wealthy, Sarah. You'll have everything you want and never have to work again."

"But I don't want _you_, Webb. I'd rather live in a one-room shack with Harm than in a mansion with you."

"You're confused right now. Don't worry, Sarah. I'm a patient man. I've waited eight years. I'm not going to give up now. You'll come around."

"You could keep me here forever, but you'll _never_ make me forget Harm."

"We'll see about that." There was that smirk again. And then he was gone.

Forty-one hours and twenty-six minutes had passed since Clay kidnapped her. At least she hadn't lost her sense of timing. For all the good it would do.

She needed a plan. She'd be damned if she surrendered to the wishes of Clayton Webb.

_Think, Mac. Think._

She doubted he was here alone. Preparing meals was beneath him. He wouldn't risk dirtying his three-piece suit. At the least, there had to be someone in the house to do the cooking. Maybe a maid as well.

Mac would be willing to bet they were long-time, loyal servants. No chance in getting any help from them. If she caught him off guard, she could take Clay down. Disable him long enough to escape the room.

Then what? He'd brought her up a wide staircase off the front foyer. If someone else was in the house, getting past them wouldn't be easy.

_I always know where you are._

She heard Harm's words almost as clearly as if he'd been in the room. Couldn't help but smile at remembering when he said that to her. They had just returned from a mission in the Barents Sea.

Had he returned from the Seahawk? Last time she spoke to him, he'd expected to be there at least another week. Did he even know she was missing? When he read the note, would he see her hidden message? Doubtful he'd ever read Daphne du Maurier. How was he supposed to figure it out?

At least Sturgis and the others would soon know something was wrong when she didn't show up on Monday. What was Webb's plan then? He'd forced her to tell Harm she was going away forever but made her tell Sturgis she would only be out for a few days. Didn't make sense.

_Hang in there, Mac. I'm coming for you._

Harm's voice again. He knew! He was near. She could feel it.

_I'm here, Harm. Please come soon._

**On the Road to Manderley  
June 16, 2004  
1500 Local**

Harm drove with the same intensity and concentration he used when flying a Tomcat. He had a mission to complete. Rescuing the woman he loved.

At least he'd had the wherewithal to exchange his 'Vette for the Lexus. It would be hard to fit three people in his sports car. He glanced toward his passenger. He wasn't sure what caused him to phone AJ Chegwidden after he learned of Mac's disappearance, but he was glad he did.

Chegwidden once broke Webb's nose in Russia when the spook put him and Mac in danger. What would he do to the bastard now?

Harm and his former CO had come to terms with their disagreement regarding Paraguay. He wondered if AJ felt a little guilt over allowing Mac to accompany Webb. Whatever the case, Harm lucked out when he called and learned the former SEAL was in town and more than ready to help with rescuing Mac.

"You love her, don't you, son?" AJ said.

"Yes, I do."

"I asked you a question before you went to Paraguay. I know the two of you have been together for a few months, but I'll repeat it. What are you going to do to keep her?"

"One day, in the near future, I plan to ask her to marry me."

"Good. I could see that coming the first time the two of you laid eyes on one another. I expect a wedding invitation."

"You'll have one, sir."

Harm slowed the SUV as the neared Manderley.

"Looks like this is it. Better not get too close. The element of surprise will be on our side."

"Right." Harm found a secluded area off-road. Parked the Lexus, then both men started walking toward the estate.

"Wish we had the cover of darkness, but if we cut through those trees, we should be okay," AJ said.

"Let's hope Webb doesn't have some kind of fancy outdoor security system."

"If he does, we'll deal with it."

The two men made their way toward the house, stopping when they came to the edge of the trees. Harm was reminded of the time they went after the admiral's daughter in Italy. Harm said a quick prayer for their success.

Someone walked outside. Webb. The bastard _was_ alive. Motioning to AJ to stay put, Harm rushed to the opposite side of the house. He didn't have to look back to know AJ had his six and that Webb was in the scope his rifle.

Harm stopped, then flattened himself against the wall. Instead of walking toward the sandy beach, Webb moved toward a rocky ledge.

"I've got him, son. Make your move." AJ's voice came through the earpiece.

The sound of the waves lapping against the rocks gave Harm an advantage. In a dozen long strides, he reached Webb. Grabbed him from behind.

"Where is she, Webb?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rabb."

"You damn well do. Tell me where Mac is, or I'll break your scrawny neck."

"Sarah came with me willingly. Didn't you read her message?"

"Oh, I read it all right. Answer me this. If she didn't want me to find her, then why did she leave clues throughout the note?"

"Maybe she just wanted you to know what you'd be missing. After all, it wasn't your name she screamed in bed last night."

"You son of a bitch." He tightened his grip, but Webb had a surprise move of his own.

The former spook's elbow crashed into Harm's ribs, causing him to momentarily let go. Webb swung his fist but Harm ducked, causing Clay to lose his balance. The momentum sent him over the edge of the cliff.

Chegwidden rushed to Harm. Together they looked at the rocks below.

Harm didn't have time to mull over what happened. Mac was here somewhere. He rushed inside the house, looking for any signs of her presence. A quick search of the ground floor proved futile, so he bounded up the stairs, looking inside every room. He came to a door at the end of the hall. It was locked.

"Mac. Mac, are you in there?"

"Harm? Is that you?"

"Yeah, baby. It's me."

"He locked me in here. I can't get out."

"Get away from the door, honey. I'm going to break it down." Mustering his strength, he raised his leg and kicked near the lock. The wood splintered easily. One more solid kick and the door came open.

Mac rushed to him, and he drew her into his arms. "It's okay, baby. I'm here now."

"He… held a gun to me and made me write the note. I didn't want to do it. He said I belonged to him, and he would make me forget you." Her tears flowed freely.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay."

"Oh, God, Harm. He's out there somewhere. He's got a gun. We've got to get out of here."

"He won't hurt anyone else again, honey. Clayton Webb is dead. And this time, It's for real."

_A/N: Love Will Find a Way by Pablo Cruise_


	19. Let's Live For Today

_A/N: Only one more chapter after this one. The last two chapters cover a period of several months, but I'll move through it quickly. Since the majority of Season Ten was at the least "meh," and at the worst disgusting, I won't dwell on the episodes. I took liberty with a few scenes and made them to fit the story. _

_I had a hard time writing this chapter because I hate, repeat hate, Season Ten. Even the few episodes I referenced nauseate me. But here goes. _

**Let's Live for Today**

**USS Hennessey  
September 2004  
1630 Local**

In the weeks following Clayton Webb's death, life returned to normal for Harm and Mac. Rather as normal as things could be where they were involved.

A subsequent investigation determined Webb's death was an accident. Had he lived, he would have been arrested and charged with kidnapping. Authorities also looked into his faked death. Porter Webb had known her son was alive. She couldn't accept him being fired from the CIA and wanted to help him begin a new life. She denied any knowledge of his plans to kidnap Mac.

AJ visited Harm and Mac often when he was in town. He and Francesca were still touring the major league ballparks. Not only that, there was someone new in his life. Well, not exactly new, but he and Marcella had reconnected through their daughter.

It didn't take long for Sturgis to return to his priggish ways. Harm wasn't sure what happened to his one-time friend. Maybe power had gone to the man's head. Whatever the case, he seemed to have it in for Harm. Not that any of the other staff were happy with their temporary CO.

In early September, when the news came that a new JAG was being brought in, everyone was relieved. Everyone that is, except Mac.

In a rare occurrence, Sturgis had sent her and Harm to investigate an incident between a Navy frigate and a Canadian fishing vessel. During their investigation, Harm got word the selection board had selected Gordon Cresswell as the new JAG.

"I just spoke to Bud. The Selection Board has filed a report. It's official. Colonel Cresswell is now the new JAG."

"Well, that's just great," Mac said.

Her response wasn't what he'd expected. He thought she'd be happy a marine was being brought in.

"You want to tell me what the problem with this guy is, or?"

"Cresswell was the staff judge advocate in Okinawa when I first got there. He knew about my affair with John Farrow. Even made sure Farrow got his letter of reprimand."

"Go on."

"If I hadn't already got my rotation orders, he probably would have demanded disciplinary action against me, too."

"That was a long time ago, Mac."

"Marines have a long memory, Harm. He could make my life hell. He could transfer me to some other billet. He could… he could separate us. How do you think he's going to react when he learns we're living together? I doubt he'll be understanding like the admiral was."

"Mac, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If it comes down to it, I'll resign."

"Harm, no. You did that once for me. I won't let you do that again."

"Mac, I would do it a hundred times if it meant having you in my life. Now, why don't you say we finish our investigation so we can get home?"

**JAG Headquarters  
September 7, 2004  
0800 Local**

When Harm and Mac returned to JAG headquarters after completing the Hennessey investigation, Harm was surprised to learn none of his personal belongings were in his office. This wasn't good. He and Mac exchanged a worried look before Petty Officer Coates hurried toward them.

Her voice was cheerful. "Commander, Colonel. Welcome back. Commander, your things are in your old office.

"My old office? Why?"

"Commander Turner convinced the general you should be there."

"Sturgis did that?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's up to something. Can't believe he did it as a gesture of goodwill."

"As soon as you're settled, the general wants to see you."

"Both of us?" Mac asked.

"Yes, but one at a time. Commander Rabb first."

"Tell him, I'll be right there."

"This isn't good, Harm." Mac rushed to her office, then closed the door.

**General Cresswell's Office  
0815 Local**

Harm stood at attention and waited while the new commanding officer reviewed his personnel file.

"At ease commander. Have a seat."

"Yes, sir."

"I understand you spent some time TAD to the CIA."

He nodded. "I spent several months there."

"Classified, I know. I'll not ask anymore. In 1999, you left her to return to active flyer status."

"That's correct. I began my Navy career as an aviator. I was forced to stop flying because of an issue with my eyes. After the problem was corrected, I changed my designator."

"I trust you're happy at JAG."

"Yes sir, I am. I have kept my flight status active."

"With two DFCs and a silver star, I can understand why. Tell me about Colonel Mackenzie."

Harm tried to hide his surprise at the General's bluntness. "Sir?"

"The two of you have a personal relationship. Isn't that correct?"

"Yes, we do."

"Relax. I know about the arrangement my predecessor made with the SECNAV. I trust the two of you to keep your personal relationship out of the office and maintain proper decorum."

"We will. As we have been doing the past few months."

"Then we have an understanding. And by the way, the SECNAV told me the only reason he didn't appoint you as acting JAG was because of your relationship with Colonel Mackenzie. He felt you were the better person for the job, but knew it wouldn't look good for you to be in command over her. He didn't want Turner but he was the only other choice."

* * *

Mac wasn't able to talk with Harm before she spoke to the general. He smiled and nodded, leading her to believe things went well. Still, she couldn't help but be a little nervous when she walked into the CO's office.

"At ease, Colonel. I think it's best we clear the air. Start with a clean slate, so to speak."

"Sir?"

"When you were stationed in Okinawa, I recommended reprimanding a senior officer for having relations with a junior officer in his chain of command."

"Yes, sir."

"I assumed you learned your lesson at the time. It has no effect on my opinion of you."

"Then, sir, why do I feel it might?"

"You're a Marine, Colonel. A good one, I think. I've reviewed your file. You've been a fine officer and an asset to JAG."

"Thank you, sir."

"I know about your relationship with Commander Rabb. You're of the same rank, so there's not a problem there. As I told him, maintain proper decorum and keep your personal relationship out of the office. Dismissed."

Mac stood at attention, then left the room.

_Well. that went better than expected._

**USS John F Kennedy, Persian Gulf  
February 16, 2005  
1400 Local**

Harm sat in his stateroom. Relieved of duty. Grounded pending an investigation. All for shooting down a plane that was headed straight for an American oil rig. Of all people, Sturgis Turner was the person assigned to investigate.

He finished his report in record time. Didn't check all the facts. Barely talked to Harm. Now he just learned Turner recommended he be charged with negligent homicide. Damn the man. Harm wasn't going down easy. If nothing else, he'd give Sturgis a piece of his mind. He rushed from the room and caught Sturgis in the corridor.

"Hey, Sturgis."

"Harm. I see you read my report."

"Oh, yeah. It was factual, thorough, and unbiased until your conclusion."

"I call it as I see it."

"No, you call it as you'd like to see it."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you saw an opportunity to take me down, and you went for it."

"You shot down a civilian aircraft with an Iraqi official onboard. Without authorization. You want me to sweep that under the rug?"

"No. I want you to consider the context and put your personal feelings aside."

"I made a fair and unbiased assessment. Personal feelings had nothing to do with it."

"You let your animosity toward me get in the way of your judgment."

"That's a lie, and it's insulting."

"Well, it's not as insulting as being accused of murder."

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

Typical of Sturgis to turn away and not face the truth. "Yeah? You've had a problem with me since you came to JAG, Turner. Be a man, admit it."

"Yeah. I got a problem with you, Rabb. You're arrogant, condescending, and jealous. But that didn't affect my findings."

"Jealous of what?"

"You couldn't stand it that SECNAV chose me for acting JAG over the great Harmon Rabb."

Harm almost laughed. If Sturgis only knew the truth. But the bastard wouldn't believe it. And yes, he was jealous at first. "All right, I do admit it. But I lived with it."

"Lived with it, my ass. You tried to undermine my authority every step of the way. When I needed your support, all I got was sarcasm and disrespect."

"Well, if you weren't such a tight-assed, pompous, sanctimonious prig, Turner, you would have had support. You're your own worst enemy."

"Yeah, maybe so. But I'm not the one facing an Article 32."

**Andrews Air Force Base  
February 25, 2005  
1730 Local**

Harm breathed a sigh of relief when the plane touched down at Andrews. The trip from the Persian Gulf had been long and tiring. Not to mention Sturgis was also on the flight. They sat in different rows but the man's presence was enough to leave a bad taste in Harm's mouth.

Sturgis never acknowledged any wrongdoing on his part, not even after they learned the truth. The Iraqi official wasn't on the plane. The pilot did intend to hit the oil rig in a suicide mission. Sturgis, in a condescending manner, simply said, "You got lucky."

Harm didn't bother to dignify that comment with a response. He waited until the plane taxied to a stop. Grabbed his seabag then made sure Sturgis had started up the aisle before stepping in front of him and down the stairs to the tarmac.

Inside the terminal, his eyes scanned the room. A crowd was there to welcome their family members home. A familiar feeling came over him. Mac was nearby.

He saw her standing to the side, away from the crowd. She was dressed in jeans and a low-cut pullover shirt. The general must have allowed her to secure early. And since she wore civvies, they didn't have to worry about military decorum.

Harm flashed her his flyboy grin. She rushed to his side and they embraced.

"Welcome home, sailor."

Harm didn't miss Sturgis's glare of disapproval as he walked past them. He'd work with the SOB because he had to. But any thread of friendship that once was had been permanently snapped.

**Harm and Mac's Apartment  
2100 Local**

Mac sat in Harm's lap on the sofa, her hands idly caressing his bare chest. He was tired. Jet lag was catching up to him, and his eyes grew heavy.

"Want to turn in early?"

"May have to soon. But right now, I just want to be here with the woman I love. To live in this moment. I came too damn close to having everything taken away from me."

"What was Sturgis thinking?"

"He's not the same person I once knew. Out to prove he's better or something."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I was in Cresswell's office when he got the call from Sturgis recommending charges against you. He didn't act too pleased."

"That's behind us now. Things are changing, Mac. It's not just because the admiral has left. I don't know. I once thought being in the navy was everything. Now, I'm not so sure. You are the most important person to me on this earth. We had a few rough months there, but I don't regret resigning to go after you in Paraguay. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"You mean that, don't you?"

"Yes."

Mac closed her eyes content just to be in his arms. To hear his words. No man had ever done for her what Harm had. Sure, Mic resigned his commission and moved to the states. And he never passed up an opportunity to throw that in her face.

But Harm never tried to make her feel guilt over his decision.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I'd do the same for you."

Over the next few weeks, more changes happened at JAG as the general brought in new officers.

But the biggest surprise of all was about to come.

* * *

_A/N: Let's Live for Today by The Grass Roots_


	20. Tonight I Celebrate My Love

_A/N: Okay, I know I said this would be the final chapter. But, as usual, the muse took me in a slightly different direction. Or rather, she decided I needed to add a specific scene, and the song title I had picked didn't fit. __Maybe this isn't too sappy_

_Thanks to Radiorox for suggesting this song. And I promise the final chapter is coming soon._

**Tonight I Celebrate My Love**

**JAG Headquarters  
April 22, 2005  
1500 Local**

Harm, Mac, and the other staff members were ready to leave the room when General Cresswell called everyone's attention.

"I have one more order of business. With the CNO and commandant's blessing, SECNAV is standing up a prototype Joint Legal Service Center: Navy and Marine lawyers in the field under one command. Colonel Mackenzie, you've been selected for command of that unit. Your orders."

"Sir, I… I don't know what to say."

"It's Joint Legal Services Center, Southwest. You'll be stationed in San Diego."

"San Diego? But, sir—"

Cresswell ignored her. Turned to Harm. "Commander, I hope you like Yorkshire pudding."

Harm opened the folder Cresswell handed to him. "Force Judge Advocate, Naval Forces Europe?"

"You'll be stationed in London. By the way, it's a captain's billet. The 0-6 board just reported out. Frocking's been approved. Congratulations, Captain Rabb. That'll be all." He rose, then left the room leaving two shocked officers.

While the others offered their congratulations, Harm and Mac sat in silence. After everyone left, Mac finally spoke.

"What just happened?"

"I don't know, Mac, but I don't like it."

"Harm, you just received a promotion. Not only that, but your new position is a stepping stone to becoming JAG."

"The general is separating us, Mac. After he told us he wouldn't. I don't give a damn about my career if you aren't a part of my life. Remember what I told you a couple of months ago? I'll resign. Go with you to San Diego."

"I won't let you do that, Harm. I'm the one who should resign."

"Let's not rush into any hasty decisions, Mac. We need to talk about this, but it would be better to wait until we're home."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm numb. Under other circumstances, I'd be honored to have been offered this position, but—

A tap on the door interrupted her words. Coates stuck her head in the door. "Colonel, Command, uh Captain, the general wants to see you both immediately."

**Cresswell's Office  
1530 Local**

Harm and Mac sat in the familiar chairs waiting for their CO to speak. How many times over the years had the two of them been in this office while the admiral gave their assignments. Even had a few dressing downs.

"I'm sure you're both wondering about the new assignments. Why I'm putting six-thousand miles between you."

"To be honest, sir, yes we are." Mac glanced at Harm as she spoke.

"I'm a family man. I understand what it's like to be separated from them. But I chose a military career knowing what it entailed. Likewise, when Dora and I married, she understood there would be many times we would be apart. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices."

"My mother understood that all too well," Harm said.

"Such is the life of a career military officer. I picked the two of you because you are the best choices for those positions. Having said that, it's something you need to discuss. Take the weekend to think things through. I expect answers on Monday."

"We'll do that, sir."

"Thank you, sir."

**Harm and Mac's Apartment  
1900 Local**

Harm waited until Mac was in the shower before going to the bedside table to pull out a small box. He'd had it hidden away for a few weeks now.

He imagined they would have a romantic candlelight dinner at a fancy restaurant. Dancing. A long weekend at a bed and breakfast. He'd wanted something special. It was only a matter of waiting for the right time.

The Memorial Day weekend was a little more than a month away. It would have been perfect. Now, thanks to the general, he couldn't wait.

He took the box into the kitchen, then placed it in a drawer before checking on dinner. Mac had wanted to order take out, but he'd insisted on cooking, reasoning that after today's surprising news, they needed a special meal. She agreed once she learned he was grilling a steak. Salmon for him, of course.

Harm placed candles on the table and in strategic places around the apartment. Made sure they were lit before tossing the salad. He'd already chilled a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne.

Mac stepped into the room dressed in a floor-length caftan that left him wondering what she wore beneath it.

"Wow. You really went all out, Flyboy."

He grinned. "Told you we needed a special meal tonight."

* * *

After they finished dinner, Harm told Mac to relax in the living room. "I'll clean up the kitchen. Why don't you put on some music? I'll be out in a few minutes."

He hoped she wouldn't change the CD. He'd selected one with several soft, romantic tunes. She didn't. Taking a deep breath, he took the little box, removed what was inside, and tucked it into his pocket.

_This is it, Hammer._

He strolled into the room as "Tonight I Celebrate My Love" began to play.

_Perfect._

Harm reached for her hand, pulled her into his arms, and began a slow dance. He held her close, their bodies practically melded together. There was no need to maintain military protocol.

When the song ended, Harm stepped back, still holding her hand, then dropped to one knee.

"Sarah, when we first met in the Rose Garden, I knew there was something special about you. We've had our ups and downs, gone through good times and bad. You've been with me through thick and thin. Literally saved my life.

"I know I haven't always been the easiest person to be around. I've allowed my mouth to get ahead of my brain more times than I can count. Other times I didn't speak up when I should have.

"But one thing I know. You're the only woman I love. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Sarah, will you marry me?"

Tears rolled down Mac's face. "Yes, Harm. Yes, I'll marry you."

Harm stood, removed the ring from his pocket, and placed it on her finger. Then, he took her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom where they celebrated their love.

* * *

_A/N: Tonight I Celebrate My Love by Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack_


	21. Runaway

_A/N: When I began this sequel to "Seventeen," I considered continuing the story into an AU eleventh season. But it's time to bring it to a close. I may write a post JAG story with our fav couple sometime in the future. Right now, I'm toying with another idea unrelated to this series. I also need to get back to "Saving Mac." _

_But for now, the conclusion of Beyond Seventeen._

**Runaway**

**McMurphy's Tavern  
June 10, 2005  
2000 Hours**

Mac turned to her soon-to-be husband as he parked his 'Vette outside McMurphy's. "Are you ready for this?"

Harm smiled. "I guess so. Even though I know we did the right thing, it still feels a little strange."

"Yeah, it does. No second thoughts?"

"None. And you?"

"Not a single one."

Harm looked toward the entrance. "We've had a few good memories here. Wet downs. Celebrations."

"And some not so good." Mac hadn't thought of Dalton Lowne's murder in years. That part of her life wasn't something she liked to dwell on. She'd made a mistake leaving JAG. Allowing Dalton to seduce her by the promise of a lucrative career in private practice.

Now she was leaving again. For good. But this time, she would be with the man she loved.

She reflected on everything that had happened in the last few weeks. After Harm proposed, and a night of intense lovemaking, they spent the rest of the weekend talking about their future. Both agreed they wanted to be married as soon as possible. They wanted a small wedding with only a few close friends and family in attendance. Nothing fancy.

What they couldn't initially agree on was who would resign. Harm reasoned he had his twenty years and could retire.

Mac brought up the subject of their baby deal. "I know we're a year behind schedule, but I want to have your child, Harm. It would be better if I were the one to resign."

"Mac, I can't honestly see you staying at home all the time. You're an excellent attorney and a fine marine. Yes, I want you to have my child. My children. But plenty of women work and still raise a family."

In the end, they reached a compromise that suited them but shocked the general and everyone else.

"Ready to go in, marine?" Harm's words brought her back to the present.

"Guess you can't call me that anymore. But yeah, we'd better get inside. After all, it is our going away party."

* * *

The entire JAG gang had gathered for the event. The General, Coates, Bud and Harriet, several of the junior officers and staff. Even Sturgis put in an appearance, although he kept to himself most of the evening.

Harriet cornered Mac the minute she and Harm walked through the door. Now that Harriet was a full-time mother, she didn't get out much. "Your ring is beautiful."

"Thank you, Harriet."

"Very tasteful. Not gaudy like—" Her face grew red.

"It's okay. Not gaudy like the ring Mic gave me. Thank God."

"Have you set a date for the wedding?"

"June 25 in La Jolla. I sure wish you and Bud could make the trip."

"Me too, but having four small children makes it hard to travel. Still, I wouldn't change my life for anything in this world."

"So, you don't have any regrets about giving up the Navy?"

"Not a single one. Kids grow up so fast. I missed much of little AJ's first years simply because I was in the office. Just wait until you have one of your own."

"Well, we plan to start working on that soon." Mac smiled.

The group grew quiet as a tall, familiar man entered the building accompanied by a striking woman of Italian descent.

"You didn't think I'd miss your going away party, did you?" AJ Chegwidden greeted Harm and Mac before introducing Marcella to the rest of the gang.

Cresswell shook hands with Chegwidden. "When you told me these two were trouble, I had no idea how much." His tone was jovial.

"I wasn't aware the two of you knew one another," Harm said.

AJ nodded. "We had a long talk before he assumed his role as JAG." Turning to Cresswell, he said, These two put me in a lot of predicaments, but I have to say nothing like what they did to you."

"I'll say. I never expected both of them to resign. Had to scramble to find suitable candidates to fill both those positions."

Mac couldn't help but notice Sturgis turned away. The only time she or Harm talked to him was if they needed to discuss JAG matters, but scuttlebutt said he'd wanted the FJA position in London."

"What can I say? Mac and I have always been a little unconventional," Harm said.

"I hear the two of you are going to run away so to speak."

"We leave on a cross country trip to La Jolla first thing Monday. We'll stay with my parents for a few weeks. Putting our things in storage, including the two 'Vettes, until we decide where we're going to live."

"Or what you're going to do for a living." AJ said.

Unbeknownst to their friends, after Frank married Trish, he set up a trust fund. Harm had been reluctant to use any of the money, but he and Mac decided this was the time. They didn't plan to live on it forever but were still tossing around ideas about what they would do in the civilian world.

"We have a few things in mind. But first, we want to enjoy being together," Mac said.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and before long, it was time to say goodbye to their friends. The women shed more than a few tears. Lots of handshakes were exchanged among the men.

Even Sturgis offered his best wishes. "Good luck, Buddy," he said to Harm.

Harm nodded. "I almost believe you mean that."

**La Jolla, California  
June 25, 2005  
Sunset**

Mac stood in front of the full-length mirror while Trish made a few final adjustments to the dress. She had chosen an ivory colored tea-length with a sage green ribbon around the waist. Instead of a veil, she had baby's breath entwined in her hair. A single red rose adorned with more baby's breath made up the bridal bouquet.

"You are the most beautiful bride. My son will be speechless when he sees you," Trish said.

"You think so? I hope he doesn't get too tongue-tied and not be able to say his vows."

"I doubt that. He's waited too long for this moment. His fault for not getting his head out of his six years ago. I knew he was in love with you before you went to Russa."

Mac's eyes widened. "You did?"

"You're all he talked about."

"We wasted a lot of time. Some of it his fault. Some of it mine."

"Don't worry about that now, darling. Focus on what's ahead. Now, it's time to see your groom."

* * *

The sun had started to set over the Pacific as Harm and AJ stepped up the makeshift altar. Getting married at sunset on his parent's terrace was the perfect time and place. It was small and intimate, just what he and Mac wanted.

A year earlier, he would have never dreamed AJ would be serving as his best man. But they'd become close friends since the incident with Webb at Manderley. Likewise, Mac and Marcella had become almost like sisters. Soft music began to play as the older woman walked down the aisle.

Marcella smiled and took her place near the altar. The volume of the music increased, then Mac began walking toward Harm. Memories of the past nine years flashed through his mind.

_You two know each other?_

_You're gonna be okay, Mac. I'm gonna get you through this._

_You've come with me farther than anyone I know. I'll never forget that, Mac._

_Five years from this moment…_

_Mac, you have someone who will always love you.  
_

_And you have somebody that loves you._

Mac reached the altar and joined hands with Harm. It was time to begin a new life.

Together.

* * *

_A/N: Runaway by Jefferson Starship_


End file.
